Showing posts with label Science. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Science. Show all posts

Friday, October 14, 2016

A Columbian exchange

A friend ponders:

Today I was reading some entries in The Oxford Companion to Archaeology. Among other things, I read about how the conquistadors were successful in part because the Aztecs and Maya were decimated by smallpox. The conquistadors unwittingly introduced smallpox into the indigenous populations, which had no resistance to the foreign pathogen. Fortuitous biowarfare. That, along with other factors (e.g. superior tactics and technology), enabled them to subdue these warrior civilizations, even though the conquistadors were vastly outnumbered by hostile natives.

This isn't the first time I've read that explanation. But I have some questions:

i) To begin with, why wouldn't that be a two-way street? If the conquistadors were carriers, for which the natives had no resistance–why weren't the natives carriers, for which the conquistadors had no resistance?

ii) According to the CDE, the incubation period for smallpox is between 7-17 days, during which an infected person is asymptomatic and not contagious.

So a sailor would have to become infected before he boarded a ship in Spain. And that would have to be during the incubation period, when he was still asymptomatic. I take it for granted that the captain and crew would not permit a sailor with smallpox symptoms to board the ship. So his symptoms would have to develop at sea, at which point he becomes contagious.

iii) We have to compare that with the time it took ships to sail from Europe to the Americas. Here are two estimates:

Since ships in the 1700s relied on sails to propel them, the length of the voyage greatly depended on the wind. An immigrant who made the journey in 1750 reported that it could take between eight and 12 weeks, while another who arrived in 1724 reported that the journey took six weeks and three days. The average journey was about seven weeks. (Source)

Henry Hudson was a European explorer traveling across the Atlantic during the colonial period. It took Hudson more than two months to sail from Amsterdam to New York City on his sailing ship, the Half Moon. (Source)

Assuming that's accurate, an infected sailor would become visibly symptomatic and contagious during the transatlantic passage. Assuming the crew didn't chuck him overboard, wouldn't there be a raging epidemic onboard by the time the ship docked in Mexico? But from what I've read, the conquistadors were asymptomatic when they disembarked. Moreover, I haven't read reports of conquistadors developing smallpox days or weeks after their arrival. Admittedly, my knowledge of the topic is quite cursory.

Just my thoughts:

I. A two way street

I agree it was a two way street. Native Americans (presumably including the Aztecs and Mayans) did likewise transmit diseases to Europeans (presumably including the conquistadors). For example, it's thought syphilis was likely transmitted from the New World to the Old World (on the Columbian theory). And before antibiotics syphillis could be quite harmful and sometimes even fatal.

There are other diseases Native Americans transmitted to Europeans, though I don't know if these were specifically from the Aztecs or Mayans (e.g. a species of hookworm; Chagas; Rocky Mountain Fever, though this was discovered much later than the 1500s).

II. Smallpox

Some facts about smallpox:

  1. Smallpox is a very large and complex virus. An ancient virus, from the dawn of civilization.

  2. Smallpox is thought to have originated from a domesticated animal, but it doesn't (or no longer can) infect any domesticated or any other animal. That is, there are no animal reservoirs which harbor smallpox. Smallpox only infects humans.

  3. There are actually two main types of smallpox: major and minor. Historically, smallpox major has a high mortality rate (30%), while smallpox minor a much lower one (1%). We could actually subdivide further, but it's not really all that relevant.

    However, I don't know the answer to this, but I wonder if minor existed at this time, and if so, if being infected with minor and surviving grants immunity to major?

  4. Smallpox is primarily transmitted either by droplets up to 3-6 feet (e.g. sneezing) or aerosols which travel farther than droplets and remain suspended in the air for longer periods of time (e.g. coughing). It's highly contagious, though there are other diseases which are more contagious.

    For example, if we compare by herd immunity, measles require upwards of 90-95% of a community to be vaccinated in order to keep measles from spreading to the unvaccinated in a community. However, with smallpox, about 80% of a community needs to be vaccinated in order to keep smallpox from spreading to the unvaccinated in a community. Still high, but not as high as measles.

  5. The average incubation period for smallpox is 10-12 days (range is usually from 7-17 days). The course of smallpox can vary, but usually symptoms will subside 14 days after onset. But (assuming the person survives) it takes another 7-14 days for the scabs to fall off. A person is considered no longer contagious until all their scabs have fallen off. Say for example: 10 days incubation period + 14 days symptoms to subside + 14 days for scabs to fall off = 38 days.

    In case anyone would like a bit more detail (though I could go in more depth than even here). After the incubation period, the patient will experience an acute onset of general signs and symptoms lasting 2-3 days (e.g. fevers, chills, rigors, malaise, aches and pains, nausea and vomiting). After these 2-3 days, the patient will develop a centrifugally distributed rash with lesions usually involving the face and extremities. Over the next 7-8 days, these lesions typically generalize across the entire body, and evolve through various stages (i.e. macular, papular, vesicular, pustular). Within a month or so, the patient will have either improved or not, but even if they improve a lot of complications may persist (e.g. permanent scarring, blindness, arthritis, infection with other opportunistic pathogens like pneumonia).

  6. Smallpox doesn't have a latent state. It doesn't hide as an asymptomatic infection. There's no carrier state for smallpox. Smallpox will produce overt signs (e.g. rash, lesions). (As an aside, this is one reason smallpox was able to be "eradicated".)

  7. If a person is infected with smallpox, but doesn't die, instead recovers, then (generally speaking) they should have lifelong immunity.

  8. As far as anyone is aware, smallpox has been "eradicated". I think the last known case was back in the 1970s. The only official specimens are in the CDC and I believe somewhere in Russia (though it's known the Soviet Union did attempt to weaponize smallpox in the past).

    Of course, who knows if terrorists or other nefarious groups have acquired smallpox which they could weaponize? After all, at one point, there were a lot of labs around the world which had smallpox since there was a lot of research on it. They should have destroyed all the smallpox in their possession, but did everyone do so?

III. Musings and speculations

Given all this:

  1. I suppose the straightforward answer (or one straightforward answer) could be if the conquistadors had already been exposed to smallpox in Spain or Europe and survived, then traveled to the New World to infect the Native Americans.

  2. People like Jared Diamond and Alfred Crosby talk about human contact with animals (especially domesticated animals) in the Old World vs. New World since animals can be reservoirs for infectious diseases. Specifically, living in close proximity to more varieties of animals might be relevant in building a more robust immune system among Europeans like the Spanish in contrast to Native Americans like the Aztecs and Mayans. However, it's debatable, I think.

    More to the point, since smallpox doesn't have an animal reservoir, since smallpox only infects humans, thus humans are its only reservoir, I'm not entirely sure how arguments from Diamond and Crosby would be relevant to smallpox, except indirectly at best, even if they are relevant to other communicable diseases?

  3. I believe people like Diamond and Crosby also talk about how much more dense European population centers were at the time in comparison to Native American population centers, where only a city like Tenochtitlan would've rivaled Europe. A more dense population center may mean more likelihood of exposure to various pathogens, which in turn could perhaps account for more robust immune systems among Europeans in contrast to Native Americans. That might be worth exploring as well, but again it seems to me it's a debatable topic.

  4. Generally speaking, it's possible the immune systems of Aztecs and Mayans are less genetically heterogeneous to one another than the immune systems of the Spanish to other Europeans. Perhaps especially if we accept the Bering strait theory that Native Americans trace their ancestry back to those groups which crossed the Bering strait.

    Anyway, if the Aztecs and Mayans have more genetically similar immune systems to other Native Americans than the Spanish do to other Europeans (say if the immune systems of all Native Americans are 50% identical, while the immune systems of all Europeans are 10% identical, just to use completely made-up figures), then it's possible a pathogen like smallpox could wreak havoc among Native Americans more easily if the pathogen can take advantage of something in the more similar immune systems, whereas the Spanish could more likely resist it.

    However, once again, I think this is debatable. It could just as well be entirely mistaken.

  5. Another consideration is the climate and environment in which infectious diseases tend to thrive and spread. Say Mesoamerica vs. the Spanish peninsula. Was there anything about each environment that made it more likely for certain diseases to thrive and spread? Or which inhibited them from thriving and spreading? Or say temperate climates vs. tropical or sub-tropical climates? And so on.

  6. Quite interestingly, historian Suzanne Alchon argues the following in her book A Pest in the Land: New World Epidemics in a Global Perspective (emphasis mine):

    This study of disease among the native peoples of the New World before and after 1492 challenges many widely held notions about encounters between European and native peoples. Whereas many late twentieth century scholars blamed the catastrophic decline of postconquest native populations on the introduction of previously unknown infections from the Old World, Alchon argues that the experiences of native peoples in the New World closely resembled those of other human populations. Exposure to lethal new infections resulted in rates of morbidity and mortality among native Americans comparable to those found among Old World populations.

    Why then did native American populations decline by 75 to 90 percent in the century following contact with Europeans? Why did these populations fail to recover, in contrast to those of Africa, Asia, and Europe? Alchon points to the practices of European colonialism. Warfare and slavery increased mortality, and forced migrations undermined social, political, and economic institutions.

    This timely study effectively overturns the notion of New World exceptionalism. By showing that native Americans were not uniquely affected by European diseases, Alchon also undercuts the stereotypical notion of the Americas as a new Eden, free of disease and violence until the intrusion of germ-laden, rapacious Europeans.

  7. Along similar lines, it might be useful to look at, say, contemporary tribes in places like South America or Asia (e.g. Papua New Guinea) which have been isolated from contact by civilized societies. I presume anthropologists, for example, would take care to vaccinate themselves against known native diseases, so in the case of modern tribes it might not be a two way street like it was in the past. However, would anthropologists risk bringing their own diseases to some of these tribes if they make contact with these tribes? I suppose they take care to mitigate this possibility with good hygiene, minimal contact, etc. But still the possibility is there.

    Or if these isolated tribes happened upon people from their surrounding modern society. Suppose an Amazonian tribe happening upon Brazilians without any prior warning or other preparation by either side. Would there be any relevant parallels between something like this and the Columbian exchange of disease which we could learn from?

  8. By the way, I suppose if liberal violent PETA types had their way, perhaps smallpox would now be on an endangered species list, and in fact they may even try to spread it! I hope this is just an overly active imagination on my part.

IV. "Genocide"

  1. I've also read (mostly from liberals) how Europeans brought smallpox and other diseases to the New World, thereby causing a "genocide" among Native Americans. I think the term "genocide" is a highly loaded term, to say the least.

    For one thing, did all Europeans in general intentionally give diseases to Native Americans with the goal of wiping out an entire peoples or population? Wasn't the situation far more complex? At the bare minimum, we need to make distinctions between different Europeans and different Native Americans. Perhaps there were some Europeans who did so, but we can't generalize from some to all (e.g. there were some Europeans who helped some Native Americans get inoculated).

    Take this example. I've read there's some debate over some Englishmen giving blankets infected with smallpox to Native Americans in order to kill them. If true, then this would indeed have been a vile and reprehensible act, worthy of all condemnation. Regardless, let's assume it is true - can we therefore conclude all English colonials did the same to all Native Americans whom they encountered?

  2. I've read some people argue as much as 90% of the New World population was destroyed thanks to disease brought by Europeans. Where does this figure come from? How is it calculated?

    For example, is it based on some epidemics (e.g. the cocoliztli epidemics), which, let us say, killed 90% of the Native Americans, then extrapolated to all other Native American communities or populations?

  3. A couple of Mesoamerican epidemics in the 1500s, which killed millions, were caused by what the natives called "cocoliztli". There's debate over what cocoliztli was. Was it smallpox? Was it measles? Was it some unknown disease? Did it originate from the Old World or the New World?

    I've read some argue cocoliztli was a disease indigenous to the New World rather than transmitted by Europeans. For example, see here.

    I haven't deeply looked into any of this, so I don't know.

    However, if cocoliztli was indigenous to the Americas, then it would undercut the idea that it was the European diseases alone which were responsible for the alleged "genocide" of Native Americans. Especially if cocoliztli was not smallpox.

  4. Likewise, from the same article:

    In the 1530s, a band of Spanish adventurers conquered the Inca Empire. It is commonly believed that some kind of epidemic devastated the Andes immediately prior to the Spanish arrival. Noble D Cook has advanced much evidence and argued strongly that this epidemic was of Old World origin, perhaps measles combined with pneumonic plague and influenza.46 However, if our hypothesis for the Mexican case - that some pre-existing New World viral disease became epidemic due to ecological changes brought about by large-scale and relatively sudden alterations of human agricultural practices - is valid, then perhaps the Peruvian case merits further study along these lines.

  5. Perhaps one reason smallpox so easily spread across Mesoamerica (and other parts of the New World) was due to the collapse of social order among the Aztecs and Mayans? I presume the Aztecs and Mayans faced disease epidemics in the past since most civilizations seem to have. If so, they would've presumably been better able to isolate and stem epidemics. Like leaders to take charge and organize, quarantine the infected, etc.

  6. I've read some Native American populations didn't suffer as badly from some Old World diseases as Europeans did (e.g. the Quechua people in the Andes Mountains and malaria, due to their consuming tea from leaves containing quinine, which helps mitigate malaria). Point being, it seems more complex than simply saying, all Native Americans suffered from disease at the hands of Europeans.

  7. Of course, it's not only the Europeans who brought disease. For example, it's possible African slaves brought yellow fever to the New World. Although, if true, no doubt some would still like to blame Europeans for bringing the slaves. But that would be overly simplistic to do.

  8. Speaking of which, since the Europeans were planting colonies all around the world at this time, there were a lot of communicable diseases between Europe, Africa, and Asia too. Many which killed scores of people in Africa and Asia (e.g. re-occurences of the black death in northern Africa). I wonder if any of them were as catastrophic as what happened to Native Americans?

Monday, September 12, 2016

God of the gaps

Militant atheists of the Dawkins variety often raise the God of the gaps argument. They think the religious are just saying "Goddidit" for an unexplained phenomenon. Say like how Norse pagans used to think thunderstorms were due to Thor. But now that we know what causes thunderstorms, there's no need for Thor.

However, one problem with this point is it's a false dichotomy. At least when it comes to classical theism let alone Christianity.

For example, now that we know the scientific explanation for thunderstorms, does this mean we should no longer attribute the thunderstorm to God? Christians believe God is the one who made a planet with phenomena such as thunderstorms, that God made lightning as electrical discharge, indeed that God made the laws of physics from which such phenomena result.

In other words, positing God as the ultimate source of thunderstorms is perfectly consistent with understanding the scientific explanation for thunderstorms. It's not either/or but both/and.

It's like if scientists discovered a sophisticated alien spacecraft. After years of studying it, scientists have figured out how the alien spaceship works. They know how to turn it on, how to fly it, how to use its navigation and weapons systems, how to land it. They know how its engine and other internal mechanics work. They know its energy source for fuel. They know what material it is built out of. And so on. Basically, scientists know everything there is to know about the alien spacecraft.

But now that scientists understand all this, would it make any sense if they then said, "Welp, now that we understand everything about this spacecraft, no need to posit that it was built by an intelligent alien species, for that would be superfluous"?

Of course not. It's not inconsistent to say scientists understand everything there is to understand about an alien spacecraft and the alien spacecraft was possibly built by an intelligent alien species.

Similarly, it'd make no sense on Christianity to say now that we understand how phenomena like thunderstorms work, we can therefore abandon the idea of God.

(Besides, science itself doesn't always close gaps. Sometimes science in fact opens gaps as it closes gaps. Sciences brings more questions. Nothing unreasonable about that.)

Sunday, August 31, 2014

A colony of bacteria

Richard Dawkins once claimed in "The Richard Dimbleby Lecture: Science, Delusion and the Appetite for Wonder (1996):

For the first half of geological time our ancestors were bacteria. Most creatures still are bacteria, and each one of our trillions of cells is a colony of bacteria.

Hm, "each one of our trillions of cells is a colony of bacteria"? Sorry, I couldn't leave this glaringly inept bit unchallenged. I'll try to keep it short and only say a couple of things for now:

  1. What does Dawkins mean by "each one"?

    a. For starters, "each one" of our cells is a single cell, not a "colony" of cells (let alone bacterial cells). But maybe Dawkins simply expressed himself poorly here.

    b. Or does Dawkins mean all the constituent parts of a cell within a single cell are themselves "a colony of bacteria"? If so, then that's just dumb. Are the constituent parts of a bacterial cell likewise "a colony of bacteria" within a single bacterial cell such that we have an infinite regress of "colonies of bacteria"? It's turtles (or bacteria) all the way down!

  2. By the phrase "each one of our trillions of cells," I presume Dawkins is referring to a group of the same type of cells within the human body. Say brain cells like neurons. But how are neurons equivalent to "a colony of bacteria"?

    a. Does Dawkins mean neurons are literally "a colony of bacteria" residing in our brains? If so, there are several problems. For one, it fails to distinguish between self and non-self. If neurons are indeed "a colony of bacteria" in humans, then wouldn't we expect our immune system to recognize them as such and deal with them accordingly? (Or are they like gut flora, which if so would raise other issues which would appear to contradict established medical science?)

    b. Does Dawkins mean evolutionarily speaking neurons originated from "a colony of bacteria"? If so, that's a pretty big ask. And of course there are many arguments against neo-Darwinian theory as a whole (such as from the ID community).

As an aside, if we are "a colony of bacteria," does that make the Earth a Petri dish (or at least the appearance of a Petri dish)? :-)

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Acute porphyria

According to an atheist named porphyryredux:

The reason this philosophy [i.e. empiricism] is likely true or else the best one within the competing marketplace of ideas is that those who attack it, cannot do so unless data comes to them via one of their 5 physical senses, and they send out data intending to stimulate one of the 5 physical senses. If you are using empirical data to disprove empiricism, that is sort of like biting the hand that feeds you, isn’t it?

I should start by saying: although there are probably more sophisticated arguments for empiricism, at this point I'm just assuming porphyryredux means traditional empiricism. After all, it's not as if porphyryredux offers anything more.

1. Who uses "empirical data to disprove empiricism"? Who does he have in mind or what arguments does he have in mind?

2. As others like William Lane Craig have pointed out, empiricism is too narrow. It would exclude logical truths, mathematical truths, moral truths, aesthetic truths, etc.

3. Why should we think our sensory experience is a reliable source of knowledge anyway? Something like Plantinga's EAAN could be relevant for the atheist, for instance. What about arguments for solipsism, to take another example?

4. Why couldn't empiricism coupled with atheism logically lead to a denial of morality, value, meaning, purpose, etc.?

5. Also, what if the empirical data give us conflicting facts or truths?

6. Likewise, there's no empirical data for the existence of certain objects (e.g. the mutliverse, theoretical sub-subatomic particles). Presumably there never can be empirical data for the existence of say sub-subatomic particles either, at least short of building a particle accelerator the size of the solar system.

7. Finally, here is another way to look at empirical knowledge, and if true then it seems our knowledge is mainly a matter of probabilities rather than proofs. If so, then I presume probability type arguments for theism or against atheism would be relevant (e.g. Tim and Lydia McGrew, Richard Swinburne).

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

I, robot

Richard Dawkins once said:

Biology is the study of complicated things that give the appearance of having been designed for a purpose.

Imagine a genius inventor is able to manufacture a human android. Say an android like David 8 in Ridley Scott's Prometheus. But far better (e.g. sans white colored blood, etc.). Indistinguishable from an actual human being.

Of course, one could ask, is David a "living" organism? But given the beliefs and worldview of someone like Richard Dawkins or Jerry Coyne (e.g. atheism, materialism, reductionism, neo-Darwinism), would there be a substantial difference between David and a living, breathing human being like Dawkins?

If so, what would it be?

If not, then how would an evolutionist like Dawkins differentiate between a "living" human being which evolved and David who is an artificial creation? Say the inventor is the only other who knows and he's not telling! Neither is David.

After all, both appear designed. But real humans (e.g. Dawkins) have come to appear designed due to unguided and purposeless natural processes, whereas artificial humans like David have come to appear designed due to the guided and purposeful intelligence of a genius inventor. That is, real humans have the appearance of design, while artificial humans have in fact been designed.

This scenario may sound far-fetched to many people; it's in the realm of science fiction, naught else. Maybe so. But given Dawkins' worldview, why not...someday? Indeed, Craig Venter "created" artificial life not too long ago. Apparently Venter had even placed a genetic signature or watermark in his synthetic life in order to make it known it was his creation. Not unlike, perhaps, Mr. Weyland placing "W" on the fingertip of his creation David in Prometheus:

So, short of some sort of a watermark or signature in the cell, if it's not possible to distinguish between a real human being and an artificially designed human being, then how could we tell one did indeed evolve according to unguided and purposeless natural processes, whereas the other was intelligently designed?

If we can't, then an outsider might as well conclude David evolved according to evolutionary theory, whereas Dawkins was designed by a genius inventor. But we don't really know because we can't distinguish between the two.

As such, on what grounds could Dawkins aka the Dawkbot say humans merely have the "appearance" of design rather than actual design? Couldn't it go either way? If so, then Dawkins shouldn't be so quick to pronounce the appearance of design over actual intelligent design.

A quick and dirty intro to ID

This is just a quick and dirty intro to Intelligent Design (ID).

Obviously, I think it'd be best for people to go straight to the source and read about ID directly from websites like Uncommon Descent and Evolution News & Views. To say nothing of the plethora of published works by ID theorists William Dembski, Stephen Meyer, Michael Behe, et al.

However, since I've had friends and others ask me to explain ID, I thought it'd be worth summarizing what I think is the main point of ID to them.


Francis Crick, who co-discovered the structure of DNA along with James Watson, once said:

Biologists must constantly keep in mind that what they see was not designed, but rather evolved.

By the same token, the militant atheist and evolutionist Richard Dawkins has said:

Biology is the study of complicated things that give the appearance of having been designed for a purpose.

As ID theorists have pointed out, the key word is "appearance." Individuals like Dawkins believe living organisms merely "appear" to have been designed when in fact they are anything but. They believe living organisms have instead come into being via unguided and purposeless natural processes. And that these natural processes are best explicated in neo-Darwinism.

By contrast, a reason ID theorists use the term "intelligent" in ID is because they wish to distinguish between an unguided and purposeless natural process vs a guided and purposeful process best explained by intelligent agency.

Now, virtually everyone recognizes there are many things in this universe which look like they're designed. Obviously we know things like computers, cars, and buildings have been engineered by humans. Likewise, various works of art, literature, music, movies, computer games. Similarly, we could say many inorganic materials like various plastics have been artificially designed. We could further include nanoparticles and arguably the synthetic elements in the Periodic Table too. Almost everyone including atheists like Dawkins would probably agree most if not all of these have been designed by intelligent agents i.e. humans.

But when it comes to living organisms, while everyone agrees life looks designed, atheists like Dawkins think actual design is an illusion. (I suppose in some ways similar to how some atheists think of consciousness.)

Worse, they practically become apoplectic if anyone so much as hints the design may not be an illusion but may in fact be actual design by an actual intelligence of some sort. That it may not have been unguided and purposeless after all. Or to put it another, if anyone casts doubt on the neo-Darwinian paradigm.

As an aside, it often seems as if it's all but a thought-crime to question Darwinism. This isn't hyperbolic language for effect, I don't think. There have been very real and unfortunate consequences. For example, many people's reputations have been unfairly marred. Many have lost their jobs and thus livelihoods and/or been blacklisted from future jobs due to their dissent from Darwinism. For starters, check out what happened to Richard Sternberg and Guillermo Gonzalez.

Getting back to the point, given living organisms appear designed, the next logical question should be: are living organisms, in fact, designed? Not: how or by what mechanisms have living organisms come to appear designed? Nor: who or what designed living organisms? (Dawkins, Coyne, Wolpert, and their kind react as equally irked by theistic evolution as they do by ID theory.) Yet neo-Darwinists often get ahead of themselves and confuse and/or conflate these and other questions and their related issues. They proceed, for example, to shout down ID theorists as Young Earth Creationists (YEC) in disguise, even though it's clear to anyone with a modicum of fair-mindedness and an ounce of familiarity with the movement that ID most decidedly is not. (Sometimes to the chagrin of many actual YECs!) Of course, these are good questions to ask, and questions which we should ask. But my immediate point is ID doesn't strictly speaking deal with these questions, not as their first port of call.

So, how can we tell if a living organism is truly designed? This is where intelligence comes in. Indeed, intelligence is what makes the crucial difference between the mere appearance of design vs actual design. In other words, there's a significant distinction between unintelligent design vs intelligent design, for unintelligent design means an unguided and purposeless natural process (i.e. neo-Darwinian theory), while intelligent design is, as I've already noted, the reverse.

Specifically, according to ID theorists, intelligence is a causal power that can arrange and adapt means to bring about teleological ends. This stands in distinction both to brute necessity which does not arrange or adapt means as well as to random chance which is not teleological or goal-oriented.

What's more, ID theorists have come up with ways to detect intelligence. I think Dembski's scheme is the most analytically rigorous. It'd be beyond the scope of this post to go into detail, but Dembski does point out three marks of intelligence: contingency, complexity, and specificity. By contingency he simply means if an object or event is unnecessary or, if you like, optional; if it occurred, even though it need not have occurred. Complexity refers to the fact that an object or event is difficult to reproduce by chance alone. And specificity is if an object or event exhibits an independent pattern. Dembski terms his theory of intelligence detection, specified complexity, and argues only intelligence can originate or generate specified complexity when prior to intelligence there was no specified complexity. Note this isn't the same as unintelligent natural processes making use of specified complexity.

If specified complexity is successful, then at a minimum it means we have sound and reasonable scientific and mathematical criteria to detect intelligent design in nature.

Parsing Parsons

Keith Parsons recently wrote:

neurons are classical not quantum objects

What's Parsons attempting to say here? Is he referring to classical mechanics in physics as opposed to quantum mechanics?

If not, I'm not sure what he's talking about.

But if so, then presumably he's attempting to say something like (in his own clumsy way) the physiology of neurons or neurophysiology isn't best explained by quantum mechanics, but rather by classical mechanics?

If so, for starters we can say that, generally speaking, quantum effects are more pronounced the smaller an object is. But just because neurons (i.e. nerve cells) aren't, say, atomic or subatomic particles doesn't necessarily mean QM has zero effect on neurons. A quantum effect could still be present but simply not observable. At least not by our current instruments or technology.

Further, neurons are obviously comprised of smaller constituents which could be measurably subject to QM (e.g. perhaps some proteins, perhaps the electron transport chain in the mitochondrial membrane).

Besides, isn't Parsons a reductionist who also subscribes to emergent phenomena in their lower level constituents? If so, wouldn't Parsons think lower level constituents in neurons could influence the higher level neurons themselves in some fashion?

Also, even if we don't head down to a low level like the atomic or subatomic level but instead stick with the molecular or cellular level, we know nerve signals are transmitted via nerve cells or neurons electrochemically (i.e. via electrical action potentials and chemical neurotransmitters). And I don't see why certain events in this electrochemical transmission process between neurons couldn't be explicated in terms of QM? (Well, maybe only if the time scale isn't short enough.)

Of course, none of this is at all to suggest I agree with the position that QM fully explains consciousness. Rather, I'm just responding to Parsons on his own terms.

This article from the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy may also be of interest to some.

Background to pop gen

Here's some quick and dirty background info for those curious about population genetics. It'll be simplified for wider popular appeal, but hopefully not overly simplified. I won't talk about population genetics itself, per se, since that'd be a bit too time-consuming for me to provide right now. But the background should provide enough knowledge to get people started on learning about population genetics on their own.

1. DNA. The first thing to know is that we're made up of DNA. DNA is a molecule that resides in us and encodes all our genetic information. We can think of it as containing all the instructions for how to make a human being.

2. Genes. DNA is composed of genes. Genes are segments of DNA that give humans form and/or function. Genes are also passed on from one parent to their child.

3. Allele. An allele is an alternative form of a gene. A variant. For example, different eye colors (e.g. blue, brown).

4. Genome. A person's genome is all the genetic info in a single person. This is all the DNA in a person.

Usually when we refer to DNA, we're talking about the DNA in a person's chromosomes aka chromosomal DNA. But there's also what's called mitochondrial DNA. That is, DNA in a person's mitochondria as well.

There are further distinctions but this should suffice for our purposes.

At any rate, a person's genome would include all the DNA.

5. Population. A population is all the organisms in a given set that can interbreed with one another. Actually, this is a very basic definition. It isn't perfect by any means, and debatable. But we'll just stick with this for now.

6. Evolution. A basic definition of evolution is a change in the frequencies of genes/alleles in a given population. Again, somewhat debatable, or at least requiring more elaboration, but we'll move on.

7. According to neo-Darwinian evolutionary theory, there are at least five factors that can influence the frequency of the genes/alleles in a population:

a. Natural selection. This is based on fitness. This is when the fitter or fittest individuals of a population survive (e.g. thick coated foxes are more fit to survive in the Arctic than thin coated foxes), pass on their genes/alleles, and thus their genes/alleles become more frequent in a population.

b. Sexual selection. This is based on sexual attractiveness. This is when the more sexually attractive individuals of a population mate and have the most offspring, thus passing on their genes/alleles, and thus their genes/alleles become more frequent in a population.

c. Gene migration. This is based on movement. This is when new individuals with new genes/alleles migrate into or out of another population, thus changing the frequency of genes/alleles in a population.

d. Genetic drift. This is based on chance. This is when random chance events (e.g. bugs getting stepped on, floods wiping out half the population) lead to changes in the frequency of genes/alleles in a population.

e. Mutations. This is based on anomalies in the genetic code. This is when mistakes in DNA lead to new genes/alleles.

7. Equilibrium. Specifically, Hardy-Weinberg equilibrium. A population is said to be in (Hardy-Weinberg) equilibrium when none of the previously mentioned factors are in operation. It also assumes all individuals in a given population capable of breeding are breeding and each produces the same number of offspring.

That is, natural selection is not at work. Sexual selection is completely random. There are no new migrants into or out of a population. There is a huge population size in order to moot random chance events affecting the frequency of genes/alleles in a population. Finally, no mutations ever occur.

8. Finally, as the cornerstone of population genetics, we have what's called the Hardy-Weinberg equation. The equation is: p2 + 2pq + q2 = 1.

We can think the equation in the following way.

Consider three basic types of genes/alleles. Say we have XX genes/alles representing dominant genes/alleles, xx representing recessive genes/alleles, and Xx representing mixed dominant and recessive genes/alleles.

Accordingly, the "p2" in the equation refers to what's called homozygous dominant genes/alleles. The "q2" refers to what's called homozygous recessive genes/alleles. And the "2pq" refers to what's called heterozygous genes/alleles.

If we know 40% of a given population posses homozygous dominant genes/alleles, then we know p2 = 0.4.

If p2 = 0.4, then p = 0.63 (approx).

That means q = 1 - 0.63 = 0.37.

While q2 = 0.137.

And 2pq = 0.466.

Thus, since we know p2 = 0.4, 2pq = 0.466, and q2 = 0.137, then we know 40% of the population possesses homozygous dominant genes (e.g. XX), 46.6% of the population possesses heterozygous genes/alles (e.g. Xx), and 13.7% of the population possesses homozygous recessive genes/alleles.

Physics on the wane

Steve Hays recently made the following point, with which I'd agree:

Physicists have a reputation for being the smartest scientists. Smarter than biologists. That's ironic since biology is far more varied and complicated than physics, so–if anything–you'd expect great biologists to be smarter than great physicists.

Just to add to Steve's thoughts:

1. I suppose some of this is self-perpetuated by physicists as a community. For example, people like Richard Feynman and Murray Gell-Mann seem to have incessantly talked about how smart they were or are.

2. Plus, I think the most impressive scientific discoveries in the first half or two-thirds of the 20th century, certainly to the public if not also impressive in their own right, have largely been in physics (e.g. Bohr's model of the atom, Einstein's theories of relativity, the big bang theory, QM).

3. Not to mention the technological applications in the wake of these discoveries in physics (e.g. nuclear weapons, spaceflight, maybe modern computers to an extent - although I think computers are probably better attributed to mathematicians such as those who served as code crackers in WW2).

4. All this presumably gives the public the impression that physicists are like modern wizards (e.g. able to unlock the inner workings of the atom to harness nuclear energy).

5. Related, I've also read JFK's administration really pushed science, math, and engineering on the American public mainly in order to compete with the Soviet Union in the space race (e.g. to land a man on the moon). I could be wrong, of course, but I assume this would positively affect the perception of these fields in the minds of most of the public, if not also make the public think these are the fields all the really smart students should strive for.

6. However, as we know, it seems there haven't been as many momentous moments in physics in recent years. Today some even joke physics is far too speculative (e.g. string theory, multiverse).

7. My impression is biology started really taking off as a field around the time when physics began to wane, say, around the middle of the 20th century. Such as with physicist Erwin Schrödinger's What Is Life? series of lectures. And especially with the discovery of the structure of DNA by Watson and Crick. Crick himself of course was a physicist turned biologist.

From DNA, we learned about genes, chromosomes, etc., at least on levels deeper than Mendelian genetics.

This coincided with medical discoveries and applications like Fleming's discovery of penicillin as an antibiotic.

Likewise, people began to apply mathematics to biology (e.g. population genetics - which with Darwinism and genetics now form the neo-Darwinian synthesis).

In our time we've had the sequencing of the human genome, among other genomes. And there still seem to be so many discoveries awaiting scientists working in biology or related fields (e.g. biochemistry, pharmaceuticals).

In any case, perhaps future generations who have lived through this era where it seems physics is waning while biology is waxing or on the rise will have a different impression than previous generations who have lived through the apogee of physics.

8. For better or for worse, many smart people primarily chase the money. For instance, rather than going for a PhD in something they could do like physics, and hoping for an academic career, some people decide instead to stop at a bachelor's degree in order to try their hand working for a large company in Silicon Valley like Google or Pixar. Of course, one can still do significant research at these companies, but is the opportunity cost vs return worth it for them?

9. I suppose the truth or at least in the direction of the truth is that the smartest people are those who are fluent in abstract and analytical reasoning and able to apply it to whatever field they're interested in (e.g. theology, philosophy, mathematics).

10. By the way, I think William Dembski, for one, who I'm sure could've done physics if he wanted to, but instead chose to apply himself more to the biological sciences side of ID, is considerably smarter than physicists like Victor Stenger or Lawrence Krauss. I think it might even be arguable Dembski is on par with Stephen Hawking or Roger Penrose. Of course, Dembski gets such a bad wrap due to his Christian beliefs.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Good gap arguments?

From Angus Menuge ("Against Methodological Materialism," Waning of Materialism, p 381):

[E]ntirely materialistic science employs gap arguments routinely when explaining unlikely historical events. The most widely accepted explanation of the geologically rapid, widespread extinction of dinosaurs invokes a rare, but fully materialistic event: asteroid impact. Part of the evidence for this event is that none of the processes believed to be going on at the time (including likely diseases - initially a competing hypothesis) are sufficient to account for such a catastrophic extinction. In other words, there is a gap between these processes and the fact of extinction. Asteroid impact was then hypothesized as a possible cause, leading to independent predictions of shocked quartz in the Cretaceous-Tertiary boundary, which were subsequently confirmed. Not only is this gap argument completely materialistic, it is also a good one, because it depends on the confirmation of independently testable predictions that discriminate between the asteroid hypothesis and its competitors.

In fact, historical science of all kinds is filled with gap arguments. There is a gap between the unloaded military antique mounted on a wall and the deceased Colonel Mustard who was somehow killed using the antique, and this gap may be best explained by the intelligent agency of a murderer. There is a horrific numerical gap between the population records for Jews and Slavs before and after the Second World War that is best explained by deliberate genocide. There may be a gap between a student's own creative ability and the spectacular slide show on impressionism he presented, best explained by the artistic skill of impressionist artists. Evolutionary scientists themselves frequently employ gap-arguments, claiming that there must have been intermediary creatures between those whose fossils have actually been discovered, for otherwise there is no suitably gradual explanation of the presumed transitions. In general, a good gap argument is based on a careful assessment of what the normal course of nature is capable of doing, thereby providing evidence of an objective gap in nature, not merely a gap in our knowledge, and this leads to the postulation of some additional factor or agency whose causal powers are known to be capable of filling the gap. Good gap arguments are therefore not arguments from ignorance but arguments from knowledge, both of what nature is normally capable of doing, and of the resources capable of doing more.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Intelligent dissent

One of the significant criticisms leveled against Intelligent Design is ID shouldn't be considered a valid form of scientific inquiry because ID proponents haven't published any articles in any peer reviewed journals.

1. Of course, this isn't true (e.g. see here). ID proponents have published articles in scientific journals. Sure, it hasn't been a huge amount, but there have been enough and enough notable instances to qualify.

2. In any case, it seems to me the climate in academia toward ID is extremely hostile. Take the case of Richard Sternberg. Or several other examples in the movie Expelled.

In fact, I'd think it's arguably similar enough to the climate toward democracy in modern China. If this is true, then it's amazing any ID articles have been published at all!

And, if this is true, then it's a bit unfair of ID-critics to allege, on the one hand, that ID hasn't published any peer reviewed articles, but, on the other hand, attempt to keep them from publishing peer reviewed articles.

Such behavior strikes me as duplicitous. If so, then it, in itself, would seem to be further evidence of suppression.

3. Doubtless those who suppress ID don't see it this way. Rather, if it is suppression, they'd probably argue it's akin to suppressing the teaching of astrology. What's wrong with suppressing teaching astrology to students at major universities?

Of course, given postmodernism including its overvaluation of tolerance, its insistence on tolerance of all viewpoints at any cost, how can any such university consistently suppress teaching anything, really?

More importantly, how do we know astrology is bunk? Because of poor evidence, poor arguments, contradictory science, and so forth.

But ID hardly fits into these categories. At a minimum, ID makes reasonable arguments. One might not agree with the arguments, but the arguments aren't on par with arguments for astrology.

4. The best way to debunk ID is to engage and debunk their arguments. However, many if not most major academic institutions seek to silence ID before the arguments are even presented.

Let's grant (arguendo) ID is mistaken. Even so, such an absolutist attitude coupled with authoritarian strongarm measures to suppress ID at major academic institutions is more poisonous to academia than ID ever could be.

Friday, January 27, 2012

William Dembski interview



An informative interview with William Dembski. It's mainly about the course of his life including his pioneering work in Intelligent Design.

HT: Steve Hays.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Multiverse mayhem

Jim S. at Quodlibeta points out several problems with the multiverse theory of the universe. I don't agree with everything, but he does make some fine points.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Big Blog Theory



If you're a fan of the TV sit-com The Big Bang Theory (like I am), then you might be interested to know there's a blog called The Big Blog Theory authored by Prof. David Saltzberg who is a UCLA physicist and science consultant for the show.

Monday, January 2, 2012

The West and the rest

Why is the West is so much more successful than the rest of the world?

A significant (and probably fair) assumption is success is primarily measured in terms of economics, wealth, quality of life.

Economic historian Niall Ferguson offers an explanation which involves "six killer apps" in his TED talk: competition; the Scientific Revolution; the rule of law and representative government; modern medicine; the consumer society; and the Protestant work ethic. Further he argues other nations are adopting these "six killer apps" today, thereby making themselves successful, whereas these "apps" are degrading in Western nations. Although it remains an open question whether all six "apps" are necessary for success and whether the sequence matters (e.g. China does not have representative government but does have a strong work ethic).

This is in the vein of Victor Davis Hanson's earlier work Carnage and Culture, which in turn is a response to Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, and Steel. If it can be reduced to a single word, Diamond's book argues the West is so much more successful because of geography. Hanson responds and argues, again if we can reduce the argument to a word, that it is not geography but culture.

By the way, Ferguson points out the economic and many other significant discrepancies between East and West Germany (prior to the end of the Cold War) and the current discrepancies between North and South Korea rule out geography as an explanation because Germany and Korea would be in the same geographic area, with similar natural resources, societies and culture, etc. Their main difference is democracy vs. communism. (Although I wonder if East Germany and North Korea don't have less natural resources and more geographic obstacles than West Germany and South Korea?)

Rodney Stark's books argue the success is fundamentally due to religion i.e. Judeo-Christianity.

Speaking for myself, at the end of the day I'd side with Stark, although there are merits to everyone's points, to varying degrees.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Intuition



It appears some of the best scientists have an intuitive grasp of the world around them. Take Richard Feynman.

Julian Schwinger closed Feynman's obituary in this way:
An honest man, the outstanding intuitionist of our age, and a prime example of what may lie in store for anyone who dares to follow the beat of a different drum.
Murray Gell-Mann described (I believe sardonically) the Feynman Problem-Solving Algorithm:
  1. Write down the problem.
  2. Think very hard.
  3. Write down the answer.
Hans Bethe went as far as to say:
In science, as well as in other fields of human endeavor, there are two kinds of geniuses: the “ordinary” and the “magicians.”

An ordinary genius is a fellow that you and I would be just as good as, if we were only many times better. There is no mystery as to how his mind works. Once we understand what he has done, we feel certain that we, too, could have done it.

It is different with the magicians. They are, to use mathematical jargon, in the orthogonal complement of where we are and the working of their minds is for all intents and purposes incomprehensible. Even after we understand what they have done, the process by which they have done it is completely dark. They seldom, if ever, have students because they cannot be emulated and it must be terribly frustrating for a brilliant young mind to cope with the mysterious ways in which the magician’s mind works.

Richard Feynman is a magician of the highest caliber.

Freeman Dyson explained Feynman's science in this manner:
The reason Dick's physics was so hard for ordinary people to grasp was that he did not use equations . . . Dick just wrote down the solutions of out of his head without ever writing down the equations. He had a physical picture of the way things happen, and the picture gave him the solutions directly with a minimum of calculation. It was no wonder that people who had spent their lives solving equations were baffled by him. Their minds were analytical; his was pictorial.
Robert Oppenheimer wrote a letter to Raymond Birge, the chairman of the physics department at the University of California-Berkeley, in an attempt to secure Feynman for a professorship:
As you know, we have quite a number of physicists here, and I have run into a few who are young and whose qualities I had not known before. Of these there is one who is in every way so outstanding and so clearly recognized as such, that I think it appropriate to call his name to your attention, with the urgent request that you consider him for a position in the department at the earliest time that that is possible. You may remember the name because he once applied for a fellowship in Berkeley: it is Richard Feynman. He is by all odds the most brilliant young physicist here, and everyone knows this. He is a man of thoroughly engaging character and personality, extremely clear, extremely normal in all respects, and an excellent teacher with a warm feeling for physics in all its aspects. He has the best possible relations both with the theoretical people of whom he is one, and with the experimental people with whom he works in very close harmony.

The reason for telling you about him now is that his excellence is so well known, both at Princeton where he worked before he came here, and to a not inconsiderable number of "big shots" on this project, that he has already been offered a position for the post war period, and will most certainly be offered others. I feel that he would be a great strength for our department, tending to tie together its teaching, its research and its experimental and theoretical aspects. I may give you two quotations from men with whom he has worked. Bethe has said that he would rather lose any two other men than Feyman from this present job, and Wigner said, "He is a second Dirac, only this time human."

Don P. Mitchell, one of Feynman's former students, has written:
The best lecture I recall started out with Feynmann suggesting that he stop the course, because it wasn't really getting anyplace. Then he decided to talk about what he was doing right then, as an example of real research. He was interested in quantum chromodynamics, and the big frustration at the time was that people had a theory, but it was too difficult to evaluate it and predict numerical results of experiments. He explained that in cases like this, it was hard to know where to start. He wanted to "understand" aspects of the theory, and develop intuition. For example, asymptotic confinement (quarks seem to bind together more tightly as you pull them apart).

He told us that he approaches these issues by rehearsal. 'Think of a simpler problem that seems similar. If you can't solve that, think of a simpler one. If you can solve it, then SOLVE IT. Don't just say you know how to solve it. After that, you might think of a way to attack the harder problem. You might realize something.' Basically, keep poking around and give your intuition a chance to develop and wait for ideas to pop into your head.

He suggested looking at an hydrogen atom in 2D. He noted that in that case, there was an infinite ionization energy, all the states were bound. He did some of the work on the board with class participation (and people occasionally yelling out minor corrections to his math). Everyone was very excited and eager. He computed the energy levels. Then he computed the width of the energy bands. They overlapped! What did that mean? Was the energy really quantized, or did it behave like a continuum then? It was amazing that such a trivial problem would quickly lead to a mystery.

He ended the lecture by charging everyone with the task of "learning something new about two dimensions" that they could report to the class. "Anything new. I don't care how trivial it is." And he meant "anything". He wasn't the least bit afraid to do something trivial, but maybe with a different viewpoint. Then show it to people with delight. He wasn't the least bit afraid to ask a dumb question at a talk--often a question that lots of other people wanted to ask.

Paul Davies writes in the preface to Six Easy Pieces:

To place QED on a sound basis it was necessary to make the theory consistent not only with the principles of quantum mechanics but with those of the special theory of relativity too. These two theories come with their own distinctive mathematical machinery, complicated systems of equations that can indeed be combined and reconciled to yield a satisfactory description of QED. Doing this was a tough undertaking, requiring a high degree of mathematical skill, and was the approach followed by Feynman’s contemporaries. Feynman himself, however, took a radically different route—so radical, in fact, that he was more or less able to write down the answers straightaway without using any mathematics!

To aid this extraordinary feat of intuition, Feynman invented a simple system of eponymous diagrams. Feynman diagrams are a symbolic but powerfully heuristic way of picturing what is going on when electrons, photons, and other particles interact with each other. These days Feynman diagrams are a routine aid to calculation, but in the early 1950s they marked a startling departure from the traditional way of doing theoretical physics.

[. . .]

Physics is an exact science, and the existing body of knowledge, while incomplete, can’t simply be shrugged aside. Feynman acquired a formidable grasp of the accepted principles of physics at a very young age, and he chose to work almost entirely on conventional problems. He was not the sort of genius to beaver away in isolation in a backwater of the discipline and to stumble across the profoundly new. His special talent was to approach essentially mainstream topics in an idiosyncratic way. This meant eschewing existing formalisms and developing his own highly intuitive approach. Whereas most theoretical physicists rely on careful mathematical calculation to provide a guide and a crutch to take them into unfamiliar territory, Feynman’s attitude was almost cavalier. You get the impression that he could read nature like a book and simply report on what he found, without the tedium of complex analysis.

Indeed, in pursuing his interests in this manner Feynman displayed a healthy contempt for rigorous formalisms. It is hard to convey the depth of genius that is necessary to work like this. Theoretical physics is one of the toughest intellectual exercises, combining abstract concepts that defy visualization with extreme mathematical complexity. Only by adopting the highest standards of mental discipline can most physicists make progress. Yet Feynman appeared to ride roughshod over this strict code of practice and pluck new results like ready-made fruit from the Tree of Knowledge.

[. . .]

Although quantum mechanics had made the textbooks by the early 1930s, it is typical of Feynman that, as a young man, he preferred to refashion the theory for himself in an entirely new guise. The Feynman method has the virtue that it provides us with a vivid picture of nature’s quantum trickery at work. The idea is that the path of a particle through space is not generally well defined in quantum mechanics. We can imagine a freely moving electron, say, not merely traveling in a straight line between A and B as common sense would suggest, but taking a variety of wiggly routes. Feynman invites us to imagine that somehow the electron explores all possible routes, and in the absence of an observation about which path is taken we must suppose that all these alternative paths somehow contribute to the reality. So when an electron arrives at a point in space—say a target screen—many different histories must be integrated together to create this one event.

Feynman’s so-called path-integral, or sum-over-histories approach to quantum mechanics, set this remarkable concept out as a mathematical procedure. It remained more or less a curiosity for many years, but as physicists pushed quantum mechanics to its limits—applying it to gravitation and even cosmology—so the Feynman approach turned out to offer the best calculational tool for describing a quantum universe. History may well judge that, among his many outstanding contributions to physics, the path-integral formulation of quantum mechanics is the most significant.

Here's an excerpt from an interview titled "The Smartest Man in the World" with Omni Magazine:

Omni: Maybe it’s the way the textbooks are written, but few people outside science appear to know just how quickly real, complicated physical problems get out of hand as far as theory is concerned.

Feynman: That’s very bad education. The lesson you learn as you grow older in physics is that what we can do is a very small fraction of what there is. Our theories are really very limited.

Omni: Do physicists vary greatly in their ability to see the qualitative consequences of an equation?

Feynman: Oh, yes — but nobody is very good at it. Dirac said that to understand a physical problem means to be able to see the answer without solving equations. Maybe he exaggerated; maybe solving equations is experience you need to gain understanding — but until you do understand, you’re just solving equations.

[. . .]

Omni: To someone looking at high-energy physics from the outside, its goal seems to be to find the ultimate constituents of matter. . . . But with the big accelerators, you get fragments that are more massive than the particles you started with, and maybe quarks that can never be separated. What does that do to the quest?

Feynman: I don’t think that ever was the quest. Physicists are trying to find out how nature behaves; they may talk carelessly about some “ultimate particle” because that’s the way nature looks at a given moment, but ..Suppose people are exploring a new continent, OK? They see water coming along the ground, they’ve seen that before, and they call it “rivers.” So they say they’re exploring to find the headwaters, they go upriver and sure enough, there they are, it’s all going very well. But lo and behold, when they get up far enough they find the whole system’s different. . . . As long as it looks like the way things are built is wheels within wheels, then you’re looking for the innermost wheel — but it might not be that way, in which case you’re looking for whatever the hell it is that you find!

Omni: But surely you must have some guess about what you’ll find; there are bound to be ridges and valleys and so on . . . ?

Feynman: Yeah, but what if when you get there it’s all clouds? You can expect certain things, you can work out theorems about the topology of watersheds, but what if you find a kind of mist, maybe, with things coagulating out of it with no way to distinguish the land from the air? The whole idea you started with is gone! That’s the kind of exciting thing that happens from time to time. One is presumptuous if one says, “We’re going to find the ultimate particle, or the unified field laws,” or “the” anything. If it turns out surprising, the scientist is even more delighted. You think he’s going to say, “Oh, it’s not like I expected, there’s no ultimate particle, I don’t want to explore it”? No, he’s going to say, “What the hell is it, then?”

Omni: You’d rather see that happen?

Feynman: Rather doesn’t make any difference: I get what I get.

[. . .]

Omni: Do you have any guesses on [the history of cosmology]?

Feynman: No.

Omni: None at all? No leaning either?

Feynman: No, really. That’s the way I am about almost everything. Earlier, you didn’t ask whether I thought that there’s a fundamental particle, or whether it’s all mist; I would have told you that I haven’t the slightest idea. Now, in order to work hard on something, you have to get yourself believing that the answer’s over there, so you’ll dig hard there right? So you temporarily prejudice or predispose yourself — but all the time, in the back of your mind, you’re laughing. Forget what you hear about science without prejudice. Here, in an interview, talking about the Big Bang, I have no prejudices — but when I’m working, I have a lot of them.

Omni: Prejudices in favor of . . . what? Symmetry, simplicity . . . ?

Feynman: In favor of my mood of the day. One day I’ll be convinced there’s a certain type of symmetry that everybody believes in, the next day I’ll try to figure out the consequences if it’s not, and everybody’s crazy but me. But the thing that’s unusual about good scientists is that while they’re doing whatever they’re doing, they’re not so sure of themselves as others usually are. They can live with steady doubt, think “maybe it’s so” and act on that, all the time knowing it’s only “maybe.” Many people find that difficult; they think it means detachment or coldness. It’s not coldness! It’s a much deeper and warmer understanding, and it means you can be digging somewhere where you’re temporarily convinced you’ll find the answer, and somebody comes up and says, “Have you seen what they’re coming up with over there?”, and you look up and say, “Jeez! I’m in the wrong place!” It happens all the time.

Feynman relates the following story in "The Dignified Professor":
Then I had another thought: Physics disgusts me a little bit now, but I used to enjoy doing physics. Why did I enjoy it? I used to play with it. I used to do whatever I felt like doing—it didn’t have to do with whether it was important for the development of nuclear physics, but whether it was interesting and amusing for me to play with. When I was in high school, I’d see water running out of a faucet growing narrower, and wonder if I could figure out what determines that curve. I found it was rather easy to do. I didn’t have to do it; it wasn’t important for the future of science; somebody else had already done it. That didn’t make any difference: I’d invent things and play with things for my own entertainment.

So I got this new attitude. Now that I am burned out and I’ll never accomplish anything, I’ve got this nice position at the university teaching classes which I rather enjoy, and just like I read the Arabian Nights for pleasure, I’m going to play with physics, whenever I want to, without worrying about any importance whatsoever.

Within a week I was in the cafeteria and some guy, fooling around, throws a plate in the air. As the plate went up in the air I saw it wobble, and I noticed the red medallion of Cornell on the plate going around. It was pretty obvious to me that the medallion went around faster than the wobbling.

I had nothing to do, so I start to figure out the motion of the rotating plate. I discover that when the angle is very slight, the medallion rotates twice as fast as the wobble rate—two to one. It came out of a complicated equation! Then I thought, “Is there some way I can see in a more fundamental way, by looking at the forces or the dynamics, why it’s two to one?”

I don’t remember how I did it, but I ultimately worked out what the motion of the mass particles is, and how all the accelerations balance to make it come out two to one.

I still remember going to Hans Bethe and saying, “Hey, Hans! I noticed something interesting. Here the plate goes around so, and the reason it’s two to one is. . .” and I showed him the accelerations.

He says, “Feynman, that’s pretty interesting, but what’s the importance of it? Why are you doing it?”

“Hah!” I say. “There’s no importance whatsoever. I’m just doing it for the fun of it.” His reaction didn’t discourage me; I had made up my mind I was going to enjoy physics and do whatever I liked.

I went on to work out equations of wobbles. Then I thought about how electron orbits start to move in relativity. Then there’s the Dirac Equation in electrodynamics. And then quantum electrodynamics. And before I knew it (it was a very short time) I was “playing”—working, really with the same old problem that I loved so much, that I had stopped working on when I went to Los Alamos: my thesis‑type problems; all those old‑fashioned, wonderful things.

It was effortless. It was easy to play with these things. It was like uncorking a bottle: Everything flowed out effortlessly. I almost tried to resist it! There was no importance to what I was doing, but ultimately there was. The diagrams and the whole business that I got the Nobel Prize for came from that piddling around with the wobbling plate.

However, Feynman's mother Lucille Feynman said after Omni Magazine named Feynman the world's smartest man:
If that's the world's smartest man, God help us!
Showing posts with label Science. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Science. Show all posts

Friday, October 14, 2016

A Columbian exchange

A friend ponders:

Today I was reading some entries in The Oxford Companion to Archaeology. Among other things, I read about how the conquistadors were successful in part because the Aztecs and Maya were decimated by smallpox. The conquistadors unwittingly introduced smallpox into the indigenous populations, which had no resistance to the foreign pathogen. Fortuitous biowarfare. That, along with other factors (e.g. superior tactics and technology), enabled them to subdue these warrior civilizations, even though the conquistadors were vastly outnumbered by hostile natives.

This isn't the first time I've read that explanation. But I have some questions:

i) To begin with, why wouldn't that be a two-way street? If the conquistadors were carriers, for which the natives had no resistance–why weren't the natives carriers, for which the conquistadors had no resistance?

ii) According to the CDE, the incubation period for smallpox is between 7-17 days, during which an infected person is asymptomatic and not contagious.

So a sailor would have to become infected before he boarded a ship in Spain. And that would have to be during the incubation period, when he was still asymptomatic. I take it for granted that the captain and crew would not permit a sailor with smallpox symptoms to board the ship. So his symptoms would have to develop at sea, at which point he becomes contagious.

iii) We have to compare that with the time it took ships to sail from Europe to the Americas. Here are two estimates:

Since ships in the 1700s relied on sails to propel them, the length of the voyage greatly depended on the wind. An immigrant who made the journey in 1750 reported that it could take between eight and 12 weeks, while another who arrived in 1724 reported that the journey took six weeks and three days. The average journey was about seven weeks. (Source)

Henry Hudson was a European explorer traveling across the Atlantic during the colonial period. It took Hudson more than two months to sail from Amsterdam to New York City on his sailing ship, the Half Moon. (Source)

Assuming that's accurate, an infected sailor would become visibly symptomatic and contagious during the transatlantic passage. Assuming the crew didn't chuck him overboard, wouldn't there be a raging epidemic onboard by the time the ship docked in Mexico? But from what I've read, the conquistadors were asymptomatic when they disembarked. Moreover, I haven't read reports of conquistadors developing smallpox days or weeks after their arrival. Admittedly, my knowledge of the topic is quite cursory.

Just my thoughts:

I. A two way street

I agree it was a two way street. Native Americans (presumably including the Aztecs and Mayans) did likewise transmit diseases to Europeans (presumably including the conquistadors). For example, it's thought syphilis was likely transmitted from the New World to the Old World (on the Columbian theory). And before antibiotics syphillis could be quite harmful and sometimes even fatal.

There are other diseases Native Americans transmitted to Europeans, though I don't know if these were specifically from the Aztecs or Mayans (e.g. a species of hookworm; Chagas; Rocky Mountain Fever, though this was discovered much later than the 1500s).

II. Smallpox

Some facts about smallpox:

  1. Smallpox is a very large and complex virus. An ancient virus, from the dawn of civilization.

  2. Smallpox is thought to have originated from a domesticated animal, but it doesn't (or no longer can) infect any domesticated or any other animal. That is, there are no animal reservoirs which harbor smallpox. Smallpox only infects humans.

  3. There are actually two main types of smallpox: major and minor. Historically, smallpox major has a high mortality rate (30%), while smallpox minor a much lower one (1%). We could actually subdivide further, but it's not really all that relevant.

    However, I don't know the answer to this, but I wonder if minor existed at this time, and if so, if being infected with minor and surviving grants immunity to major?

  4. Smallpox is primarily transmitted either by droplets up to 3-6 feet (e.g. sneezing) or aerosols which travel farther than droplets and remain suspended in the air for longer periods of time (e.g. coughing). It's highly contagious, though there are other diseases which are more contagious.

    For example, if we compare by herd immunity, measles require upwards of 90-95% of a community to be vaccinated in order to keep measles from spreading to the unvaccinated in a community. However, with smallpox, about 80% of a community needs to be vaccinated in order to keep smallpox from spreading to the unvaccinated in a community. Still high, but not as high as measles.

  5. The average incubation period for smallpox is 10-12 days (range is usually from 7-17 days). The course of smallpox can vary, but usually symptoms will subside 14 days after onset. But (assuming the person survives) it takes another 7-14 days for the scabs to fall off. A person is considered no longer contagious until all their scabs have fallen off. Say for example: 10 days incubation period + 14 days symptoms to subside + 14 days for scabs to fall off = 38 days.

    In case anyone would like a bit more detail (though I could go in more depth than even here). After the incubation period, the patient will experience an acute onset of general signs and symptoms lasting 2-3 days (e.g. fevers, chills, rigors, malaise, aches and pains, nausea and vomiting). After these 2-3 days, the patient will develop a centrifugally distributed rash with lesions usually involving the face and extremities. Over the next 7-8 days, these lesions typically generalize across the entire body, and evolve through various stages (i.e. macular, papular, vesicular, pustular). Within a month or so, the patient will have either improved or not, but even if they improve a lot of complications may persist (e.g. permanent scarring, blindness, arthritis, infection with other opportunistic pathogens like pneumonia).

  6. Smallpox doesn't have a latent state. It doesn't hide as an asymptomatic infection. There's no carrier state for smallpox. Smallpox will produce overt signs (e.g. rash, lesions). (As an aside, this is one reason smallpox was able to be "eradicated".)

  7. If a person is infected with smallpox, but doesn't die, instead recovers, then (generally speaking) they should have lifelong immunity.

  8. As far as anyone is aware, smallpox has been "eradicated". I think the last known case was back in the 1970s. The only official specimens are in the CDC and I believe somewhere in Russia (though it's known the Soviet Union did attempt to weaponize smallpox in the past).

    Of course, who knows if terrorists or other nefarious groups have acquired smallpox which they could weaponize? After all, at one point, there were a lot of labs around the world which had smallpox since there was a lot of research on it. They should have destroyed all the smallpox in their possession, but did everyone do so?

III. Musings and speculations

Given all this:

  1. I suppose the straightforward answer (or one straightforward answer) could be if the conquistadors had already been exposed to smallpox in Spain or Europe and survived, then traveled to the New World to infect the Native Americans.

  2. People like Jared Diamond and Alfred Crosby talk about human contact with animals (especially domesticated animals) in the Old World vs. New World since animals can be reservoirs for infectious diseases. Specifically, living in close proximity to more varieties of animals might be relevant in building a more robust immune system among Europeans like the Spanish in contrast to Native Americans like the Aztecs and Mayans. However, it's debatable, I think.

    More to the point, since smallpox doesn't have an animal reservoir, since smallpox only infects humans, thus humans are its only reservoir, I'm not entirely sure how arguments from Diamond and Crosby would be relevant to smallpox, except indirectly at best, even if they are relevant to other communicable diseases?

  3. I believe people like Diamond and Crosby also talk about how much more dense European population centers were at the time in comparison to Native American population centers, where only a city like Tenochtitlan would've rivaled Europe. A more dense population center may mean more likelihood of exposure to various pathogens, which in turn could perhaps account for more robust immune systems among Europeans in contrast to Native Americans. That might be worth exploring as well, but again it seems to me it's a debatable topic.

  4. Generally speaking, it's possible the immune systems of Aztecs and Mayans are less genetically heterogeneous to one another than the immune systems of the Spanish to other Europeans. Perhaps especially if we accept the Bering strait theory that Native Americans trace their ancestry back to those groups which crossed the Bering strait.

    Anyway, if the Aztecs and Mayans have more genetically similar immune systems to other Native Americans than the Spanish do to other Europeans (say if the immune systems of all Native Americans are 50% identical, while the immune systems of all Europeans are 10% identical, just to use completely made-up figures), then it's possible a pathogen like smallpox could wreak havoc among Native Americans more easily if the pathogen can take advantage of something in the more similar immune systems, whereas the Spanish could more likely resist it.

    However, once again, I think this is debatable. It could just as well be entirely mistaken.

  5. Another consideration is the climate and environment in which infectious diseases tend to thrive and spread. Say Mesoamerica vs. the Spanish peninsula. Was there anything about each environment that made it more likely for certain diseases to thrive and spread? Or which inhibited them from thriving and spreading? Or say temperate climates vs. tropical or sub-tropical climates? And so on.

  6. Quite interestingly, historian Suzanne Alchon argues the following in her book A Pest in the Land: New World Epidemics in a Global Perspective (emphasis mine):

    This study of disease among the native peoples of the New World before and after 1492 challenges many widely held notions about encounters between European and native peoples. Whereas many late twentieth century scholars blamed the catastrophic decline of postconquest native populations on the introduction of previously unknown infections from the Old World, Alchon argues that the experiences of native peoples in the New World closely resembled those of other human populations. Exposure to lethal new infections resulted in rates of morbidity and mortality among native Americans comparable to those found among Old World populations.

    Why then did native American populations decline by 75 to 90 percent in the century following contact with Europeans? Why did these populations fail to recover, in contrast to those of Africa, Asia, and Europe? Alchon points to the practices of European colonialism. Warfare and slavery increased mortality, and forced migrations undermined social, political, and economic institutions.

    This timely study effectively overturns the notion of New World exceptionalism. By showing that native Americans were not uniquely affected by European diseases, Alchon also undercuts the stereotypical notion of the Americas as a new Eden, free of disease and violence until the intrusion of germ-laden, rapacious Europeans.

  7. Along similar lines, it might be useful to look at, say, contemporary tribes in places like South America or Asia (e.g. Papua New Guinea) which have been isolated from contact by civilized societies. I presume anthropologists, for example, would take care to vaccinate themselves against known native diseases, so in the case of modern tribes it might not be a two way street like it was in the past. However, would anthropologists risk bringing their own diseases to some of these tribes if they make contact with these tribes? I suppose they take care to mitigate this possibility with good hygiene, minimal contact, etc. But still the possibility is there.

    Or if these isolated tribes happened upon people from their surrounding modern society. Suppose an Amazonian tribe happening upon Brazilians without any prior warning or other preparation by either side. Would there be any relevant parallels between something like this and the Columbian exchange of disease which we could learn from?

  8. By the way, I suppose if liberal violent PETA types had their way, perhaps smallpox would now be on an endangered species list, and in fact they may even try to spread it! I hope this is just an overly active imagination on my part.

IV. "Genocide"

  1. I've also read (mostly from liberals) how Europeans brought smallpox and other diseases to the New World, thereby causing a "genocide" among Native Americans. I think the term "genocide" is a highly loaded term, to say the least.

    For one thing, did all Europeans in general intentionally give diseases to Native Americans with the goal of wiping out an entire peoples or population? Wasn't the situation far more complex? At the bare minimum, we need to make distinctions between different Europeans and different Native Americans. Perhaps there were some Europeans who did so, but we can't generalize from some to all (e.g. there were some Europeans who helped some Native Americans get inoculated).

    Take this example. I've read there's some debate over some Englishmen giving blankets infected with smallpox to Native Americans in order to kill them. If true, then this would indeed have been a vile and reprehensible act, worthy of all condemnation. Regardless, let's assume it is true - can we therefore conclude all English colonials did the same to all Native Americans whom they encountered?

  2. I've read some people argue as much as 90% of the New World population was destroyed thanks to disease brought by Europeans. Where does this figure come from? How is it calculated?

    For example, is it based on some epidemics (e.g. the cocoliztli epidemics), which, let us say, killed 90% of the Native Americans, then extrapolated to all other Native American communities or populations?

  3. A couple of Mesoamerican epidemics in the 1500s, which killed millions, were caused by what the natives called "cocoliztli". There's debate over what cocoliztli was. Was it smallpox? Was it measles? Was it some unknown disease? Did it originate from the Old World or the New World?

    I've read some argue cocoliztli was a disease indigenous to the New World rather than transmitted by Europeans. For example, see here.

    I haven't deeply looked into any of this, so I don't know.

    However, if cocoliztli was indigenous to the Americas, then it would undercut the idea that it was the European diseases alone which were responsible for the alleged "genocide" of Native Americans. Especially if cocoliztli was not smallpox.

  4. Likewise, from the same article:

    In the 1530s, a band of Spanish adventurers conquered the Inca Empire. It is commonly believed that some kind of epidemic devastated the Andes immediately prior to the Spanish arrival. Noble D Cook has advanced much evidence and argued strongly that this epidemic was of Old World origin, perhaps measles combined with pneumonic plague and influenza.46 However, if our hypothesis for the Mexican case - that some pre-existing New World viral disease became epidemic due to ecological changes brought about by large-scale and relatively sudden alterations of human agricultural practices - is valid, then perhaps the Peruvian case merits further study along these lines.

  5. Perhaps one reason smallpox so easily spread across Mesoamerica (and other parts of the New World) was due to the collapse of social order among the Aztecs and Mayans? I presume the Aztecs and Mayans faced disease epidemics in the past since most civilizations seem to have. If so, they would've presumably been better able to isolate and stem epidemics. Like leaders to take charge and organize, quarantine the infected, etc.

  6. I've read some Native American populations didn't suffer as badly from some Old World diseases as Europeans did (e.g. the Quechua people in the Andes Mountains and malaria, due to their consuming tea from leaves containing quinine, which helps mitigate malaria). Point being, it seems more complex than simply saying, all Native Americans suffered from disease at the hands of Europeans.

  7. Of course, it's not only the Europeans who brought disease. For example, it's possible African slaves brought yellow fever to the New World. Although, if true, no doubt some would still like to blame Europeans for bringing the slaves. But that would be overly simplistic to do.

  8. Speaking of which, since the Europeans were planting colonies all around the world at this time, there were a lot of communicable diseases between Europe, Africa, and Asia too. Many which killed scores of people in Africa and Asia (e.g. re-occurences of the black death in northern Africa). I wonder if any of them were as catastrophic as what happened to Native Americans?

Monday, September 12, 2016

God of the gaps

Militant atheists of the Dawkins variety often raise the God of the gaps argument. They think the religious are just saying "Goddidit" for an unexplained phenomenon. Say like how Norse pagans used to think thunderstorms were due to Thor. But now that we know what causes thunderstorms, there's no need for Thor.

However, one problem with this point is it's a false dichotomy. At least when it comes to classical theism let alone Christianity.

For example, now that we know the scientific explanation for thunderstorms, does this mean we should no longer attribute the thunderstorm to God? Christians believe God is the one who made a planet with phenomena such as thunderstorms, that God made lightning as electrical discharge, indeed that God made the laws of physics from which such phenomena result.

In other words, positing God as the ultimate source of thunderstorms is perfectly consistent with understanding the scientific explanation for thunderstorms. It's not either/or but both/and.

It's like if scientists discovered a sophisticated alien spacecraft. After years of studying it, scientists have figured out how the alien spaceship works. They know how to turn it on, how to fly it, how to use its navigation and weapons systems, how to land it. They know how its engine and other internal mechanics work. They know its energy source for fuel. They know what material it is built out of. And so on. Basically, scientists know everything there is to know about the alien spacecraft.

But now that scientists understand all this, would it make any sense if they then said, "Welp, now that we understand everything about this spacecraft, no need to posit that it was built by an intelligent alien species, for that would be superfluous"?

Of course not. It's not inconsistent to say scientists understand everything there is to understand about an alien spacecraft and the alien spacecraft was possibly built by an intelligent alien species.

Similarly, it'd make no sense on Christianity to say now that we understand how phenomena like thunderstorms work, we can therefore abandon the idea of God.

(Besides, science itself doesn't always close gaps. Sometimes science in fact opens gaps as it closes gaps. Sciences brings more questions. Nothing unreasonable about that.)

Sunday, August 31, 2014

A colony of bacteria

Richard Dawkins once claimed in "The Richard Dimbleby Lecture: Science, Delusion and the Appetite for Wonder (1996):

For the first half of geological time our ancestors were bacteria. Most creatures still are bacteria, and each one of our trillions of cells is a colony of bacteria.

Hm, "each one of our trillions of cells is a colony of bacteria"? Sorry, I couldn't leave this glaringly inept bit unchallenged. I'll try to keep it short and only say a couple of things for now:

  1. What does Dawkins mean by "each one"?

    a. For starters, "each one" of our cells is a single cell, not a "colony" of cells (let alone bacterial cells). But maybe Dawkins simply expressed himself poorly here.

    b. Or does Dawkins mean all the constituent parts of a cell within a single cell are themselves "a colony of bacteria"? If so, then that's just dumb. Are the constituent parts of a bacterial cell likewise "a colony of bacteria" within a single bacterial cell such that we have an infinite regress of "colonies of bacteria"? It's turtles (or bacteria) all the way down!

  2. By the phrase "each one of our trillions of cells," I presume Dawkins is referring to a group of the same type of cells within the human body. Say brain cells like neurons. But how are neurons equivalent to "a colony of bacteria"?

    a. Does Dawkins mean neurons are literally "a colony of bacteria" residing in our brains? If so, there are several problems. For one, it fails to distinguish between self and non-self. If neurons are indeed "a colony of bacteria" in humans, then wouldn't we expect our immune system to recognize them as such and deal with them accordingly? (Or are they like gut flora, which if so would raise other issues which would appear to contradict established medical science?)

    b. Does Dawkins mean evolutionarily speaking neurons originated from "a colony of bacteria"? If so, that's a pretty big ask. And of course there are many arguments against neo-Darwinian theory as a whole (such as from the ID community).

As an aside, if we are "a colony of bacteria," does that make the Earth a Petri dish (or at least the appearance of a Petri dish)? :-)

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Acute porphyria

According to an atheist named porphyryredux:

The reason this philosophy [i.e. empiricism] is likely true or else the best one within the competing marketplace of ideas is that those who attack it, cannot do so unless data comes to them via one of their 5 physical senses, and they send out data intending to stimulate one of the 5 physical senses. If you are using empirical data to disprove empiricism, that is sort of like biting the hand that feeds you, isn’t it?

I should start by saying: although there are probably more sophisticated arguments for empiricism, at this point I'm just assuming porphyryredux means traditional empiricism. After all, it's not as if porphyryredux offers anything more.

1. Who uses "empirical data to disprove empiricism"? Who does he have in mind or what arguments does he have in mind?

2. As others like William Lane Craig have pointed out, empiricism is too narrow. It would exclude logical truths, mathematical truths, moral truths, aesthetic truths, etc.

3. Why should we think our sensory experience is a reliable source of knowledge anyway? Something like Plantinga's EAAN could be relevant for the atheist, for instance. What about arguments for solipsism, to take another example?

4. Why couldn't empiricism coupled with atheism logically lead to a denial of morality, value, meaning, purpose, etc.?

5. Also, what if the empirical data give us conflicting facts or truths?

6. Likewise, there's no empirical data for the existence of certain objects (e.g. the mutliverse, theoretical sub-subatomic particles). Presumably there never can be empirical data for the existence of say sub-subatomic particles either, at least short of building a particle accelerator the size of the solar system.

7. Finally, here is another way to look at empirical knowledge, and if true then it seems our knowledge is mainly a matter of probabilities rather than proofs. If so, then I presume probability type arguments for theism or against atheism would be relevant (e.g. Tim and Lydia McGrew, Richard Swinburne).

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

I, robot

Richard Dawkins once said:

Biology is the study of complicated things that give the appearance of having been designed for a purpose.

Imagine a genius inventor is able to manufacture a human android. Say an android like David 8 in Ridley Scott's Prometheus. But far better (e.g. sans white colored blood, etc.). Indistinguishable from an actual human being.

Of course, one could ask, is David a "living" organism? But given the beliefs and worldview of someone like Richard Dawkins or Jerry Coyne (e.g. atheism, materialism, reductionism, neo-Darwinism), would there be a substantial difference between David and a living, breathing human being like Dawkins?

If so, what would it be?

If not, then how would an evolutionist like Dawkins differentiate between a "living" human being which evolved and David who is an artificial creation? Say the inventor is the only other who knows and he's not telling! Neither is David.

After all, both appear designed. But real humans (e.g. Dawkins) have come to appear designed due to unguided and purposeless natural processes, whereas artificial humans like David have come to appear designed due to the guided and purposeful intelligence of a genius inventor. That is, real humans have the appearance of design, while artificial humans have in fact been designed.

This scenario may sound far-fetched to many people; it's in the realm of science fiction, naught else. Maybe so. But given Dawkins' worldview, why not...someday? Indeed, Craig Venter "created" artificial life not too long ago. Apparently Venter had even placed a genetic signature or watermark in his synthetic life in order to make it known it was his creation. Not unlike, perhaps, Mr. Weyland placing "W" on the fingertip of his creation David in Prometheus:

So, short of some sort of a watermark or signature in the cell, if it's not possible to distinguish between a real human being and an artificially designed human being, then how could we tell one did indeed evolve according to unguided and purposeless natural processes, whereas the other was intelligently designed?

If we can't, then an outsider might as well conclude David evolved according to evolutionary theory, whereas Dawkins was designed by a genius inventor. But we don't really know because we can't distinguish between the two.

As such, on what grounds could Dawkins aka the Dawkbot say humans merely have the "appearance" of design rather than actual design? Couldn't it go either way? If so, then Dawkins shouldn't be so quick to pronounce the appearance of design over actual intelligent design.

A quick and dirty intro to ID

This is just a quick and dirty intro to Intelligent Design (ID).

Obviously, I think it'd be best for people to go straight to the source and read about ID directly from websites like Uncommon Descent and Evolution News & Views. To say nothing of the plethora of published works by ID theorists William Dembski, Stephen Meyer, Michael Behe, et al.

However, since I've had friends and others ask me to explain ID, I thought it'd be worth summarizing what I think is the main point of ID to them.


Francis Crick, who co-discovered the structure of DNA along with James Watson, once said:

Biologists must constantly keep in mind that what they see was not designed, but rather evolved.

By the same token, the militant atheist and evolutionist Richard Dawkins has said:

Biology is the study of complicated things that give the appearance of having been designed for a purpose.

As ID theorists have pointed out, the key word is "appearance." Individuals like Dawkins believe living organisms merely "appear" to have been designed when in fact they are anything but. They believe living organisms have instead come into being via unguided and purposeless natural processes. And that these natural processes are best explicated in neo-Darwinism.

By contrast, a reason ID theorists use the term "intelligent" in ID is because they wish to distinguish between an unguided and purposeless natural process vs a guided and purposeful process best explained by intelligent agency.

Now, virtually everyone recognizes there are many things in this universe which look like they're designed. Obviously we know things like computers, cars, and buildings have been engineered by humans. Likewise, various works of art, literature, music, movies, computer games. Similarly, we could say many inorganic materials like various plastics have been artificially designed. We could further include nanoparticles and arguably the synthetic elements in the Periodic Table too. Almost everyone including atheists like Dawkins would probably agree most if not all of these have been designed by intelligent agents i.e. humans.

But when it comes to living organisms, while everyone agrees life looks designed, atheists like Dawkins think actual design is an illusion. (I suppose in some ways similar to how some atheists think of consciousness.)

Worse, they practically become apoplectic if anyone so much as hints the design may not be an illusion but may in fact be actual design by an actual intelligence of some sort. That it may not have been unguided and purposeless after all. Or to put it another, if anyone casts doubt on the neo-Darwinian paradigm.

As an aside, it often seems as if it's all but a thought-crime to question Darwinism. This isn't hyperbolic language for effect, I don't think. There have been very real and unfortunate consequences. For example, many people's reputations have been unfairly marred. Many have lost their jobs and thus livelihoods and/or been blacklisted from future jobs due to their dissent from Darwinism. For starters, check out what happened to Richard Sternberg and Guillermo Gonzalez.

Getting back to the point, given living organisms appear designed, the next logical question should be: are living organisms, in fact, designed? Not: how or by what mechanisms have living organisms come to appear designed? Nor: who or what designed living organisms? (Dawkins, Coyne, Wolpert, and their kind react as equally irked by theistic evolution as they do by ID theory.) Yet neo-Darwinists often get ahead of themselves and confuse and/or conflate these and other questions and their related issues. They proceed, for example, to shout down ID theorists as Young Earth Creationists (YEC) in disguise, even though it's clear to anyone with a modicum of fair-mindedness and an ounce of familiarity with the movement that ID most decidedly is not. (Sometimes to the chagrin of many actual YECs!) Of course, these are good questions to ask, and questions which we should ask. But my immediate point is ID doesn't strictly speaking deal with these questions, not as their first port of call.

So, how can we tell if a living organism is truly designed? This is where intelligence comes in. Indeed, intelligence is what makes the crucial difference between the mere appearance of design vs actual design. In other words, there's a significant distinction between unintelligent design vs intelligent design, for unintelligent design means an unguided and purposeless natural process (i.e. neo-Darwinian theory), while intelligent design is, as I've already noted, the reverse.

Specifically, according to ID theorists, intelligence is a causal power that can arrange and adapt means to bring about teleological ends. This stands in distinction both to brute necessity which does not arrange or adapt means as well as to random chance which is not teleological or goal-oriented.

What's more, ID theorists have come up with ways to detect intelligence. I think Dembski's scheme is the most analytically rigorous. It'd be beyond the scope of this post to go into detail, but Dembski does point out three marks of intelligence: contingency, complexity, and specificity. By contingency he simply means if an object or event is unnecessary or, if you like, optional; if it occurred, even though it need not have occurred. Complexity refers to the fact that an object or event is difficult to reproduce by chance alone. And specificity is if an object or event exhibits an independent pattern. Dembski terms his theory of intelligence detection, specified complexity, and argues only intelligence can originate or generate specified complexity when prior to intelligence there was no specified complexity. Note this isn't the same as unintelligent natural processes making use of specified complexity.

If specified complexity is successful, then at a minimum it means we have sound and reasonable scientific and mathematical criteria to detect intelligent design in nature.

Parsing Parsons

Keith Parsons recently wrote:

neurons are classical not quantum objects

What's Parsons attempting to say here? Is he referring to classical mechanics in physics as opposed to quantum mechanics?

If not, I'm not sure what he's talking about.

But if so, then presumably he's attempting to say something like (in his own clumsy way) the physiology of neurons or neurophysiology isn't best explained by quantum mechanics, but rather by classical mechanics?

If so, for starters we can say that, generally speaking, quantum effects are more pronounced the smaller an object is. But just because neurons (i.e. nerve cells) aren't, say, atomic or subatomic particles doesn't necessarily mean QM has zero effect on neurons. A quantum effect could still be present but simply not observable. At least not by our current instruments or technology.

Further, neurons are obviously comprised of smaller constituents which could be measurably subject to QM (e.g. perhaps some proteins, perhaps the electron transport chain in the mitochondrial membrane).

Besides, isn't Parsons a reductionist who also subscribes to emergent phenomena in their lower level constituents? If so, wouldn't Parsons think lower level constituents in neurons could influence the higher level neurons themselves in some fashion?

Also, even if we don't head down to a low level like the atomic or subatomic level but instead stick with the molecular or cellular level, we know nerve signals are transmitted via nerve cells or neurons electrochemically (i.e. via electrical action potentials and chemical neurotransmitters). And I don't see why certain events in this electrochemical transmission process between neurons couldn't be explicated in terms of QM? (Well, maybe only if the time scale isn't short enough.)

Of course, none of this is at all to suggest I agree with the position that QM fully explains consciousness. Rather, I'm just responding to Parsons on his own terms.

This article from the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy may also be of interest to some.

Background to pop gen

Here's some quick and dirty background info for those curious about population genetics. It'll be simplified for wider popular appeal, but hopefully not overly simplified. I won't talk about population genetics itself, per se, since that'd be a bit too time-consuming for me to provide right now. But the background should provide enough knowledge to get people started on learning about population genetics on their own.

1. DNA. The first thing to know is that we're made up of DNA. DNA is a molecule that resides in us and encodes all our genetic information. We can think of it as containing all the instructions for how to make a human being.

2. Genes. DNA is composed of genes. Genes are segments of DNA that give humans form and/or function. Genes are also passed on from one parent to their child.

3. Allele. An allele is an alternative form of a gene. A variant. For example, different eye colors (e.g. blue, brown).

4. Genome. A person's genome is all the genetic info in a single person. This is all the DNA in a person.

Usually when we refer to DNA, we're talking about the DNA in a person's chromosomes aka chromosomal DNA. But there's also what's called mitochondrial DNA. That is, DNA in a person's mitochondria as well.

There are further distinctions but this should suffice for our purposes.

At any rate, a person's genome would include all the DNA.

5. Population. A population is all the organisms in a given set that can interbreed with one another. Actually, this is a very basic definition. It isn't perfect by any means, and debatable. But we'll just stick with this for now.

6. Evolution. A basic definition of evolution is a change in the frequencies of genes/alleles in a given population. Again, somewhat debatable, or at least requiring more elaboration, but we'll move on.

7. According to neo-Darwinian evolutionary theory, there are at least five factors that can influence the frequency of the genes/alleles in a population:

a. Natural selection. This is based on fitness. This is when the fitter or fittest individuals of a population survive (e.g. thick coated foxes are more fit to survive in the Arctic than thin coated foxes), pass on their genes/alleles, and thus their genes/alleles become more frequent in a population.

b. Sexual selection. This is based on sexual attractiveness. This is when the more sexually attractive individuals of a population mate and have the most offspring, thus passing on their genes/alleles, and thus their genes/alleles become more frequent in a population.

c. Gene migration. This is based on movement. This is when new individuals with new genes/alleles migrate into or out of another population, thus changing the frequency of genes/alleles in a population.

d. Genetic drift. This is based on chance. This is when random chance events (e.g. bugs getting stepped on, floods wiping out half the population) lead to changes in the frequency of genes/alleles in a population.

e. Mutations. This is based on anomalies in the genetic code. This is when mistakes in DNA lead to new genes/alleles.

7. Equilibrium. Specifically, Hardy-Weinberg equilibrium. A population is said to be in (Hardy-Weinberg) equilibrium when none of the previously mentioned factors are in operation. It also assumes all individuals in a given population capable of breeding are breeding and each produces the same number of offspring.

That is, natural selection is not at work. Sexual selection is completely random. There are no new migrants into or out of a population. There is a huge population size in order to moot random chance events affecting the frequency of genes/alleles in a population. Finally, no mutations ever occur.

8. Finally, as the cornerstone of population genetics, we have what's called the Hardy-Weinberg equation. The equation is: p2 + 2pq + q2 = 1.

We can think the equation in the following way.

Consider three basic types of genes/alleles. Say we have XX genes/alles representing dominant genes/alleles, xx representing recessive genes/alleles, and Xx representing mixed dominant and recessive genes/alleles.

Accordingly, the "p2" in the equation refers to what's called homozygous dominant genes/alleles. The "q2" refers to what's called homozygous recessive genes/alleles. And the "2pq" refers to what's called heterozygous genes/alleles.

If we know 40% of a given population posses homozygous dominant genes/alleles, then we know p2 = 0.4.

If p2 = 0.4, then p = 0.63 (approx).

That means q = 1 - 0.63 = 0.37.

While q2 = 0.137.

And 2pq = 0.466.

Thus, since we know p2 = 0.4, 2pq = 0.466, and q2 = 0.137, then we know 40% of the population possesses homozygous dominant genes (e.g. XX), 46.6% of the population possesses heterozygous genes/alles (e.g. Xx), and 13.7% of the population possesses homozygous recessive genes/alleles.

Physics on the wane

Steve Hays recently made the following point, with which I'd agree:

Physicists have a reputation for being the smartest scientists. Smarter than biologists. That's ironic since biology is far more varied and complicated than physics, so–if anything–you'd expect great biologists to be smarter than great physicists.

Just to add to Steve's thoughts:

1. I suppose some of this is self-perpetuated by physicists as a community. For example, people like Richard Feynman and Murray Gell-Mann seem to have incessantly talked about how smart they were or are.

2. Plus, I think the most impressive scientific discoveries in the first half or two-thirds of the 20th century, certainly to the public if not also impressive in their own right, have largely been in physics (e.g. Bohr's model of the atom, Einstein's theories of relativity, the big bang theory, QM).

3. Not to mention the technological applications in the wake of these discoveries in physics (e.g. nuclear weapons, spaceflight, maybe modern computers to an extent - although I think computers are probably better attributed to mathematicians such as those who served as code crackers in WW2).

4. All this presumably gives the public the impression that physicists are like modern wizards (e.g. able to unlock the inner workings of the atom to harness nuclear energy).

5. Related, I've also read JFK's administration really pushed science, math, and engineering on the American public mainly in order to compete with the Soviet Union in the space race (e.g. to land a man on the moon). I could be wrong, of course, but I assume this would positively affect the perception of these fields in the minds of most of the public, if not also make the public think these are the fields all the really smart students should strive for.

6. However, as we know, it seems there haven't been as many momentous moments in physics in recent years. Today some even joke physics is far too speculative (e.g. string theory, multiverse).

7. My impression is biology started really taking off as a field around the time when physics began to wane, say, around the middle of the 20th century. Such as with physicist Erwin Schrödinger's What Is Life? series of lectures. And especially with the discovery of the structure of DNA by Watson and Crick. Crick himself of course was a physicist turned biologist.

From DNA, we learned about genes, chromosomes, etc., at least on levels deeper than Mendelian genetics.

This coincided with medical discoveries and applications like Fleming's discovery of penicillin as an antibiotic.

Likewise, people began to apply mathematics to biology (e.g. population genetics - which with Darwinism and genetics now form the neo-Darwinian synthesis).

In our time we've had the sequencing of the human genome, among other genomes. And there still seem to be so many discoveries awaiting scientists working in biology or related fields (e.g. biochemistry, pharmaceuticals).

In any case, perhaps future generations who have lived through this era where it seems physics is waning while biology is waxing or on the rise will have a different impression than previous generations who have lived through the apogee of physics.

8. For better or for worse, many smart people primarily chase the money. For instance, rather than going for a PhD in something they could do like physics, and hoping for an academic career, some people decide instead to stop at a bachelor's degree in order to try their hand working for a large company in Silicon Valley like Google or Pixar. Of course, one can still do significant research at these companies, but is the opportunity cost vs return worth it for them?

9. I suppose the truth or at least in the direction of the truth is that the smartest people are those who are fluent in abstract and analytical reasoning and able to apply it to whatever field they're interested in (e.g. theology, philosophy, mathematics).

10. By the way, I think William Dembski, for one, who I'm sure could've done physics if he wanted to, but instead chose to apply himself more to the biological sciences side of ID, is considerably smarter than physicists like Victor Stenger or Lawrence Krauss. I think it might even be arguable Dembski is on par with Stephen Hawking or Roger Penrose. Of course, Dembski gets such a bad wrap due to his Christian beliefs.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Good gap arguments?

From Angus Menuge ("Against Methodological Materialism," Waning of Materialism, p 381):

[E]ntirely materialistic science employs gap arguments routinely when explaining unlikely historical events. The most widely accepted explanation of the geologically rapid, widespread extinction of dinosaurs invokes a rare, but fully materialistic event: asteroid impact. Part of the evidence for this event is that none of the processes believed to be going on at the time (including likely diseases - initially a competing hypothesis) are sufficient to account for such a catastrophic extinction. In other words, there is a gap between these processes and the fact of extinction. Asteroid impact was then hypothesized as a possible cause, leading to independent predictions of shocked quartz in the Cretaceous-Tertiary boundary, which were subsequently confirmed. Not only is this gap argument completely materialistic, it is also a good one, because it depends on the confirmation of independently testable predictions that discriminate between the asteroid hypothesis and its competitors.

In fact, historical science of all kinds is filled with gap arguments. There is a gap between the unloaded military antique mounted on a wall and the deceased Colonel Mustard who was somehow killed using the antique, and this gap may be best explained by the intelligent agency of a murderer. There is a horrific numerical gap between the population records for Jews and Slavs before and after the Second World War that is best explained by deliberate genocide. There may be a gap between a student's own creative ability and the spectacular slide show on impressionism he presented, best explained by the artistic skill of impressionist artists. Evolutionary scientists themselves frequently employ gap-arguments, claiming that there must have been intermediary creatures between those whose fossils have actually been discovered, for otherwise there is no suitably gradual explanation of the presumed transitions. In general, a good gap argument is based on a careful assessment of what the normal course of nature is capable of doing, thereby providing evidence of an objective gap in nature, not merely a gap in our knowledge, and this leads to the postulation of some additional factor or agency whose causal powers are known to be capable of filling the gap. Good gap arguments are therefore not arguments from ignorance but arguments from knowledge, both of what nature is normally capable of doing, and of the resources capable of doing more.

Monday, February 6, 2012

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Intelligent dissent

One of the significant criticisms leveled against Intelligent Design is ID shouldn't be considered a valid form of scientific inquiry because ID proponents haven't published any articles in any peer reviewed journals.

1. Of course, this isn't true (e.g. see here). ID proponents have published articles in scientific journals. Sure, it hasn't been a huge amount, but there have been enough and enough notable instances to qualify.

2. In any case, it seems to me the climate in academia toward ID is extremely hostile. Take the case of Richard Sternberg. Or several other examples in the movie Expelled.

In fact, I'd think it's arguably similar enough to the climate toward democracy in modern China. If this is true, then it's amazing any ID articles have been published at all!

And, if this is true, then it's a bit unfair of ID-critics to allege, on the one hand, that ID hasn't published any peer reviewed articles, but, on the other hand, attempt to keep them from publishing peer reviewed articles.

Such behavior strikes me as duplicitous. If so, then it, in itself, would seem to be further evidence of suppression.

3. Doubtless those who suppress ID don't see it this way. Rather, if it is suppression, they'd probably argue it's akin to suppressing the teaching of astrology. What's wrong with suppressing teaching astrology to students at major universities?

Of course, given postmodernism including its overvaluation of tolerance, its insistence on tolerance of all viewpoints at any cost, how can any such university consistently suppress teaching anything, really?

More importantly, how do we know astrology is bunk? Because of poor evidence, poor arguments, contradictory science, and so forth.

But ID hardly fits into these categories. At a minimum, ID makes reasonable arguments. One might not agree with the arguments, but the arguments aren't on par with arguments for astrology.

4. The best way to debunk ID is to engage and debunk their arguments. However, many if not most major academic institutions seek to silence ID before the arguments are even presented.

Let's grant (arguendo) ID is mistaken. Even so, such an absolutist attitude coupled with authoritarian strongarm measures to suppress ID at major academic institutions is more poisonous to academia than ID ever could be.

Friday, January 27, 2012

William Dembski interview



An informative interview with William Dembski. It's mainly about the course of his life including his pioneering work in Intelligent Design.

HT: Steve Hays.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Multiverse mayhem

Jim S. at Quodlibeta points out several problems with the multiverse theory of the universe. I don't agree with everything, but he does make some fine points.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Big Blog Theory



If you're a fan of the TV sit-com The Big Bang Theory (like I am), then you might be interested to know there's a blog called The Big Blog Theory authored by Prof. David Saltzberg who is a UCLA physicist and science consultant for the show.

Monday, January 2, 2012

The West and the rest

Why is the West is so much more successful than the rest of the world?

A significant (and probably fair) assumption is success is primarily measured in terms of economics, wealth, quality of life.

Economic historian Niall Ferguson offers an explanation which involves "six killer apps" in his TED talk: competition; the Scientific Revolution; the rule of law and representative government; modern medicine; the consumer society; and the Protestant work ethic. Further he argues other nations are adopting these "six killer apps" today, thereby making themselves successful, whereas these "apps" are degrading in Western nations. Although it remains an open question whether all six "apps" are necessary for success and whether the sequence matters (e.g. China does not have representative government but does have a strong work ethic).

This is in the vein of Victor Davis Hanson's earlier work Carnage and Culture, which in turn is a response to Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, and Steel. If it can be reduced to a single word, Diamond's book argues the West is so much more successful because of geography. Hanson responds and argues, again if we can reduce the argument to a word, that it is not geography but culture.

By the way, Ferguson points out the economic and many other significant discrepancies between East and West Germany (prior to the end of the Cold War) and the current discrepancies between North and South Korea rule out geography as an explanation because Germany and Korea would be in the same geographic area, with similar natural resources, societies and culture, etc. Their main difference is democracy vs. communism. (Although I wonder if East Germany and North Korea don't have less natural resources and more geographic obstacles than West Germany and South Korea?)

Rodney Stark's books argue the success is fundamentally due to religion i.e. Judeo-Christianity.

Speaking for myself, at the end of the day I'd side with Stark, although there are merits to everyone's points, to varying degrees.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Intuition



It appears some of the best scientists have an intuitive grasp of the world around them. Take Richard Feynman.

Julian Schwinger closed Feynman's obituary in this way:
An honest man, the outstanding intuitionist of our age, and a prime example of what may lie in store for anyone who dares to follow the beat of a different drum.
Murray Gell-Mann described (I believe sardonically) the Feynman Problem-Solving Algorithm:
  1. Write down the problem.
  2. Think very hard.
  3. Write down the answer.
Hans Bethe went as far as to say:
In science, as well as in other fields of human endeavor, there are two kinds of geniuses: the “ordinary” and the “magicians.”

An ordinary genius is a fellow that you and I would be just as good as, if we were only many times better. There is no mystery as to how his mind works. Once we understand what he has done, we feel certain that we, too, could have done it.

It is different with the magicians. They are, to use mathematical jargon, in the orthogonal complement of where we are and the working of their minds is for all intents and purposes incomprehensible. Even after we understand what they have done, the process by which they have done it is completely dark. They seldom, if ever, have students because they cannot be emulated and it must be terribly frustrating for a brilliant young mind to cope with the mysterious ways in which the magician’s mind works.

Richard Feynman is a magician of the highest caliber.

Freeman Dyson explained Feynman's science in this manner:
The reason Dick's physics was so hard for ordinary people to grasp was that he did not use equations . . . Dick just wrote down the solutions of out of his head without ever writing down the equations. He had a physical picture of the way things happen, and the picture gave him the solutions directly with a minimum of calculation. It was no wonder that people who had spent their lives solving equations were baffled by him. Their minds were analytical; his was pictorial.
Robert Oppenheimer wrote a letter to Raymond Birge, the chairman of the physics department at the University of California-Berkeley, in an attempt to secure Feynman for a professorship:
As you know, we have quite a number of physicists here, and I have run into a few who are young and whose qualities I had not known before. Of these there is one who is in every way so outstanding and so clearly recognized as such, that I think it appropriate to call his name to your attention, with the urgent request that you consider him for a position in the department at the earliest time that that is possible. You may remember the name because he once applied for a fellowship in Berkeley: it is Richard Feynman. He is by all odds the most brilliant young physicist here, and everyone knows this. He is a man of thoroughly engaging character and personality, extremely clear, extremely normal in all respects, and an excellent teacher with a warm feeling for physics in all its aspects. He has the best possible relations both with the theoretical people of whom he is one, and with the experimental people with whom he works in very close harmony.

The reason for telling you about him now is that his excellence is so well known, both at Princeton where he worked before he came here, and to a not inconsiderable number of "big shots" on this project, that he has already been offered a position for the post war period, and will most certainly be offered others. I feel that he would be a great strength for our department, tending to tie together its teaching, its research and its experimental and theoretical aspects. I may give you two quotations from men with whom he has worked. Bethe has said that he would rather lose any two other men than Feyman from this present job, and Wigner said, "He is a second Dirac, only this time human."

Don P. Mitchell, one of Feynman's former students, has written:
The best lecture I recall started out with Feynmann suggesting that he stop the course, because it wasn't really getting anyplace. Then he decided to talk about what he was doing right then, as an example of real research. He was interested in quantum chromodynamics, and the big frustration at the time was that people had a theory, but it was too difficult to evaluate it and predict numerical results of experiments. He explained that in cases like this, it was hard to know where to start. He wanted to "understand" aspects of the theory, and develop intuition. For example, asymptotic confinement (quarks seem to bind together more tightly as you pull them apart).

He told us that he approaches these issues by rehearsal. 'Think of a simpler problem that seems similar. If you can't solve that, think of a simpler one. If you can solve it, then SOLVE IT. Don't just say you know how to solve it. After that, you might think of a way to attack the harder problem. You might realize something.' Basically, keep poking around and give your intuition a chance to develop and wait for ideas to pop into your head.

He suggested looking at an hydrogen atom in 2D. He noted that in that case, there was an infinite ionization energy, all the states were bound. He did some of the work on the board with class participation (and people occasionally yelling out minor corrections to his math). Everyone was very excited and eager. He computed the energy levels. Then he computed the width of the energy bands. They overlapped! What did that mean? Was the energy really quantized, or did it behave like a continuum then? It was amazing that such a trivial problem would quickly lead to a mystery.

He ended the lecture by charging everyone with the task of "learning something new about two dimensions" that they could report to the class. "Anything new. I don't care how trivial it is." And he meant "anything". He wasn't the least bit afraid to do something trivial, but maybe with a different viewpoint. Then show it to people with delight. He wasn't the least bit afraid to ask a dumb question at a talk--often a question that lots of other people wanted to ask.

Paul Davies writes in the preface to Six Easy Pieces:

To place QED on a sound basis it was necessary to make the theory consistent not only with the principles of quantum mechanics but with those of the special theory of relativity too. These two theories come with their own distinctive mathematical machinery, complicated systems of equations that can indeed be combined and reconciled to yield a satisfactory description of QED. Doing this was a tough undertaking, requiring a high degree of mathematical skill, and was the approach followed by Feynman’s contemporaries. Feynman himself, however, took a radically different route—so radical, in fact, that he was more or less able to write down the answers straightaway without using any mathematics!

To aid this extraordinary feat of intuition, Feynman invented a simple system of eponymous diagrams. Feynman diagrams are a symbolic but powerfully heuristic way of picturing what is going on when electrons, photons, and other particles interact with each other. These days Feynman diagrams are a routine aid to calculation, but in the early 1950s they marked a startling departure from the traditional way of doing theoretical physics.

[. . .]

Physics is an exact science, and the existing body of knowledge, while incomplete, can’t simply be shrugged aside. Feynman acquired a formidable grasp of the accepted principles of physics at a very young age, and he chose to work almost entirely on conventional problems. He was not the sort of genius to beaver away in isolation in a backwater of the discipline and to stumble across the profoundly new. His special talent was to approach essentially mainstream topics in an idiosyncratic way. This meant eschewing existing formalisms and developing his own highly intuitive approach. Whereas most theoretical physicists rely on careful mathematical calculation to provide a guide and a crutch to take them into unfamiliar territory, Feynman’s attitude was almost cavalier. You get the impression that he could read nature like a book and simply report on what he found, without the tedium of complex analysis.

Indeed, in pursuing his interests in this manner Feynman displayed a healthy contempt for rigorous formalisms. It is hard to convey the depth of genius that is necessary to work like this. Theoretical physics is one of the toughest intellectual exercises, combining abstract concepts that defy visualization with extreme mathematical complexity. Only by adopting the highest standards of mental discipline can most physicists make progress. Yet Feynman appeared to ride roughshod over this strict code of practice and pluck new results like ready-made fruit from the Tree of Knowledge.

[. . .]

Although quantum mechanics had made the textbooks by the early 1930s, it is typical of Feynman that, as a young man, he preferred to refashion the theory for himself in an entirely new guise. The Feynman method has the virtue that it provides us with a vivid picture of nature’s quantum trickery at work. The idea is that the path of a particle through space is not generally well defined in quantum mechanics. We can imagine a freely moving electron, say, not merely traveling in a straight line between A and B as common sense would suggest, but taking a variety of wiggly routes. Feynman invites us to imagine that somehow the electron explores all possible routes, and in the absence of an observation about which path is taken we must suppose that all these alternative paths somehow contribute to the reality. So when an electron arrives at a point in space—say a target screen—many different histories must be integrated together to create this one event.

Feynman’s so-called path-integral, or sum-over-histories approach to quantum mechanics, set this remarkable concept out as a mathematical procedure. It remained more or less a curiosity for many years, but as physicists pushed quantum mechanics to its limits—applying it to gravitation and even cosmology—so the Feynman approach turned out to offer the best calculational tool for describing a quantum universe. History may well judge that, among his many outstanding contributions to physics, the path-integral formulation of quantum mechanics is the most significant.

Here's an excerpt from an interview titled "The Smartest Man in the World" with Omni Magazine:

Omni: Maybe it’s the way the textbooks are written, but few people outside science appear to know just how quickly real, complicated physical problems get out of hand as far as theory is concerned.

Feynman: That’s very bad education. The lesson you learn as you grow older in physics is that what we can do is a very small fraction of what there is. Our theories are really very limited.

Omni: Do physicists vary greatly in their ability to see the qualitative consequences of an equation?

Feynman: Oh, yes — but nobody is very good at it. Dirac said that to understand a physical problem means to be able to see the answer without solving equations. Maybe he exaggerated; maybe solving equations is experience you need to gain understanding — but until you do understand, you’re just solving equations.

[. . .]

Omni: To someone looking at high-energy physics from the outside, its goal seems to be to find the ultimate constituents of matter. . . . But with the big accelerators, you get fragments that are more massive than the particles you started with, and maybe quarks that can never be separated. What does that do to the quest?

Feynman: I don’t think that ever was the quest. Physicists are trying to find out how nature behaves; they may talk carelessly about some “ultimate particle” because that’s the way nature looks at a given moment, but ..Suppose people are exploring a new continent, OK? They see water coming along the ground, they’ve seen that before, and they call it “rivers.” So they say they’re exploring to find the headwaters, they go upriver and sure enough, there they are, it’s all going very well. But lo and behold, when they get up far enough they find the whole system’s different. . . . As long as it looks like the way things are built is wheels within wheels, then you’re looking for the innermost wheel — but it might not be that way, in which case you’re looking for whatever the hell it is that you find!

Omni: But surely you must have some guess about what you’ll find; there are bound to be ridges and valleys and so on . . . ?

Feynman: Yeah, but what if when you get there it’s all clouds? You can expect certain things, you can work out theorems about the topology of watersheds, but what if you find a kind of mist, maybe, with things coagulating out of it with no way to distinguish the land from the air? The whole idea you started with is gone! That’s the kind of exciting thing that happens from time to time. One is presumptuous if one says, “We’re going to find the ultimate particle, or the unified field laws,” or “the” anything. If it turns out surprising, the scientist is even more delighted. You think he’s going to say, “Oh, it’s not like I expected, there’s no ultimate particle, I don’t want to explore it”? No, he’s going to say, “What the hell is it, then?”

Omni: You’d rather see that happen?

Feynman: Rather doesn’t make any difference: I get what I get.

[. . .]

Omni: Do you have any guesses on [the history of cosmology]?

Feynman: No.

Omni: None at all? No leaning either?

Feynman: No, really. That’s the way I am about almost everything. Earlier, you didn’t ask whether I thought that there’s a fundamental particle, or whether it’s all mist; I would have told you that I haven’t the slightest idea. Now, in order to work hard on something, you have to get yourself believing that the answer’s over there, so you’ll dig hard there right? So you temporarily prejudice or predispose yourself — but all the time, in the back of your mind, you’re laughing. Forget what you hear about science without prejudice. Here, in an interview, talking about the Big Bang, I have no prejudices — but when I’m working, I have a lot of them.

Omni: Prejudices in favor of . . . what? Symmetry, simplicity . . . ?

Feynman: In favor of my mood of the day. One day I’ll be convinced there’s a certain type of symmetry that everybody believes in, the next day I’ll try to figure out the consequences if it’s not, and everybody’s crazy but me. But the thing that’s unusual about good scientists is that while they’re doing whatever they’re doing, they’re not so sure of themselves as others usually are. They can live with steady doubt, think “maybe it’s so” and act on that, all the time knowing it’s only “maybe.” Many people find that difficult; they think it means detachment or coldness. It’s not coldness! It’s a much deeper and warmer understanding, and it means you can be digging somewhere where you’re temporarily convinced you’ll find the answer, and somebody comes up and says, “Have you seen what they’re coming up with over there?”, and you look up and say, “Jeez! I’m in the wrong place!” It happens all the time.

Feynman relates the following story in "The Dignified Professor":
Then I had another thought: Physics disgusts me a little bit now, but I used to enjoy doing physics. Why did I enjoy it? I used to play with it. I used to do whatever I felt like doing—it didn’t have to do with whether it was important for the development of nuclear physics, but whether it was interesting and amusing for me to play with. When I was in high school, I’d see water running out of a faucet growing narrower, and wonder if I could figure out what determines that curve. I found it was rather easy to do. I didn’t have to do it; it wasn’t important for the future of science; somebody else had already done it. That didn’t make any difference: I’d invent things and play with things for my own entertainment.

So I got this new attitude. Now that I am burned out and I’ll never accomplish anything, I’ve got this nice position at the university teaching classes which I rather enjoy, and just like I read the Arabian Nights for pleasure, I’m going to play with physics, whenever I want to, without worrying about any importance whatsoever.

Within a week I was in the cafeteria and some guy, fooling around, throws a plate in the air. As the plate went up in the air I saw it wobble, and I noticed the red medallion of Cornell on the plate going around. It was pretty obvious to me that the medallion went around faster than the wobbling.

I had nothing to do, so I start to figure out the motion of the rotating plate. I discover that when the angle is very slight, the medallion rotates twice as fast as the wobble rate—two to one. It came out of a complicated equation! Then I thought, “Is there some way I can see in a more fundamental way, by looking at the forces or the dynamics, why it’s two to one?”

I don’t remember how I did it, but I ultimately worked out what the motion of the mass particles is, and how all the accelerations balance to make it come out two to one.

I still remember going to Hans Bethe and saying, “Hey, Hans! I noticed something interesting. Here the plate goes around so, and the reason it’s two to one is. . .” and I showed him the accelerations.

He says, “Feynman, that’s pretty interesting, but what’s the importance of it? Why are you doing it?”

“Hah!” I say. “There’s no importance whatsoever. I’m just doing it for the fun of it.” His reaction didn’t discourage me; I had made up my mind I was going to enjoy physics and do whatever I liked.

I went on to work out equations of wobbles. Then I thought about how electron orbits start to move in relativity. Then there’s the Dirac Equation in electrodynamics. And then quantum electrodynamics. And before I knew it (it was a very short time) I was “playing”—working, really with the same old problem that I loved so much, that I had stopped working on when I went to Los Alamos: my thesis‑type problems; all those old‑fashioned, wonderful things.

It was effortless. It was easy to play with these things. It was like uncorking a bottle: Everything flowed out effortlessly. I almost tried to resist it! There was no importance to what I was doing, but ultimately there was. The diagrams and the whole business that I got the Nobel Prize for came from that piddling around with the wobbling plate.

However, Feynman's mother Lucille Feynman said after Omni Magazine named Feynman the world's smartest man:
If that's the world's smartest man, God help us!